Lean on Me
by GLEEful Heart
Summary: Post Sectionals. "When you're not strong. And I'll be your friend. I'll help you carry on." Quinn/Artie friendship.
1. Chapter 1

_**An authors note---Much appreciation to everyone who read, reviewed, alerted and favorited Trainingwheels. Thank you all. I hope this story interests you as much as the last one. It will be a multichapter piece that starts up a few days after Sectionals, and carries us through the rest of the school year(possibly beyond, I don't know, I haven't got there yet). And now before I go any further, I must first confess---I've been a pretty strong Tartie supporter from the very beginning, that hasn't changed much, but the more I see the Artie/Quinn interaction in the show, the more I love the idea of a Quartie friendship/possible pairing. So please, even if you aren't a fan of that, let me know what you think of the story as a whole.**_

**_Disclaimer---Glee is the property of FOX, the creators and the writers. _**

**_Lean on Me  
_**

"Kinda sucks, doesn't it?"

She hadn't heard him approach, nor had she noticed the plastic choir chair he'd set behind her until she glanced over her shoulder to find him staring up at her expectantly. "Yeah it kinda does," she agreed, unable to resist returning his grin despite her sour mood.

Quinn Fabray wasn't sure when it happened---when she started to enjoy, even prefer the company of Artie Abrams over anyone else in glee club. Maybe it was when she was about to loose it during that 'Keep Holding On' number and he gave her the sweetest, most sincere smile she'd ever seen. Or maybe it was that genuine appreciation he showed after the group spent a week in wheelchairs just to do a number where he wasn't the odd one out.

Only now, she mused, they were both the odd ones out. With a small sigh, Quinn sank down into the chair next to Artie, arms still folded over her chest. The pair sat there, watching from the sidelines as the choreography was worked out for their next group number---forced to wait while the others figured out exactly what they were going do with them.

"Sorry you got stuck with me again," he muttered apologetically, eyes cast down on his lap.

Quinn glanced over. There he goes apologizing again. She inwardly rolled her eyes at his sometimes self-consciously timid tendencies, but also found them quite endearing and almost cute. "Don't be silly Artie," she replied with a soft giggle. "I really enjoy being your dance partner."

Artie found himself blushing at her revelation, even if he wasn't completely convinced she was telling the truth. Either way, it made him feel good. Grinning, he conceded, "I enjoy being yours too."

He flashed that same excitedly quirky expression he wore that day he pulled her named out of the hat for the ballad number. Quinn had to smile. It was quite ironic if you really thought about it, but after that day, they had been paired with each other for nearly every number.

"Things okay at Brittany's?"

"Hmm?" she asked after his question broke her from her previous train of thought. "Oh---um no, not really." Quinn would have been happy to leave it at that, but the imploring gaze Artie was giving her made her blurt out, "I'm not staying there anymore."

"Oh", Artie muttered softly. He clearly remembered last Saturday in the school parking lot, after they got back from their sectionals win. Quinn was obviously crying as she took a large duffel bag from Mrs. Hudson's trunk. Wordlessly, Finn got into his mothers car and they drove off, leaving Quinn sobbing in Brittany's arms. The two of them left together shortly after that.

Not that Artie was watching or anything.

"Sorry, I didn't know."

"That's okay," she shrugged indifferently, trying to pretend that her current state of being a pregnant, sort of homeless, almost orphan teenager, had absolutely no effect on her what-so-ever.

Artie could see differently though. He leaned to his left, elbow resting on the arm of his chair as he quipped playfully, "Must've made for an interesting weekend though."

Quinn met his gaze and smiled, "You have no idea."

"Was it like something out of the Twilight Zone?" he pried jokingly.

"Crazier." She paused a moment before letting a small giggle escape, "It was more like the Twilight Zone meets the Muppets."

The unexpected chuckle that burst from Artie caused a sea of eyes to suddenly be upon them; the ten other ten glee clubbers, Mr. Shue, Brad the piano guy as well as the band members who were there supplying instrumental backup today. Artie flashed an apologetic grimace, then hung his head down and blushed with embarrassment. Quinn waited for the others to get back to work before leaning closer to him before letting out a quite laugh of her own. "Sorry," he whispered breathlessly.

Quinn shook her head dismissively. She wasn't sure if Artie was apologizing for the circus that was her stay at casa Brittany, or rather his obvious amusement by it. Either way, he looked completely adorable. "That lasted all of two days. I've been staying with Santana ever since."

"Well that must be awkward." Artie immediately clamped a hand over his mouth when he realized he'd actually said what he was thinking out loud.

Quinn figured she could just lie and say that no, everything was fine, and that would be the end of the conversation and this uncomfortable subject. But she knew that wouldn't work. Something strange happens to her whenever she talks with Artie and she always catches herself spilling her guts to him. Maybe it's because he listens to her, and really listens, without judging. He doesn't lie and that makes her not want to lie---makes her want to be more like him. "It is, a little---but it's not like I have much of a choice right now," the last part came out more a little more bitterly than Quinn had intended.

Without hesitation, but with a sudden case of new-found confidence, the words were out of Artie's mouth before he even realized he was speaking. "Ya know Quinn, if you ever need a place to stay---I mean if things ever get too weird. You could always stay at my house."

For a split second, Quinn resented the charity offer. Questioned his intentions and wrote them off as another person feeling sorry for the poor, displaced, pregnant ex-cheerleader. But when the words floated back through her head, she found them to be straightforward and sincere without the slightest hint of sympathy. It was then she realized that he would never feel that way---because if there was one thing she knew about Artie Abrams, it was that he does not do pity.

Quinn blinked back tears. "Thanks for the offer Artie. I really appreciate it, but this isn't your responsibility." She watched him lower his eyes in disappointment and that made her chest tighten, but she didn't back down. "And it isn't Santana's either." There was a pause as her gaze shifted beyond her former best friend. "Puck needs to man up and do what's right."

Artie looked over at the insolent jock, currently bumping and grinding against Brittany, and sighed. "Okay, but if you need anything---my door is always open."

A smile lit her face and she nodded as she enveloped him into a hug. "Thank you Artie." The hug must have lasted longer than necessary, because when the two broke apart, the entire room was staring awkwardly and Kurt was standing over them.

"This is what we came up with," he explained, brow raised, smirk ever widening. They each took a copy of the choreography page he was offering. "Look it over. We'll be ready for you both tomorrow." And with a practiced pivot, Kurt was gone.

Quinn barely met Artie's gaze as she sprang from her seat to catch Puck before he left. "Noah, wait. We need to talk."

Puck spun on his heel to face her. "That can't be good," he muttered sarcastically.

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes at his attitude, instead she decided to use the energy to speak her mind. "You need to take responsibility for your actions. It's only been a week and I've already been shuffled around twice. So, I think it's time we discussed my current living arrangements."

After returning the chair Quinn vacated to the riser, Artie looked around to find the others had already gone. He was left alone in the choir room with the bickering pair, his chance for a discrete exit virtually impossible.

Puck shifted from foot to foot, an obviously annoyed look on his face. "Look, I'm workin' on it", he sighed impatiently. "But like I told you before, my mom's not really comfortable having a girl stay at our house."

"What does it matter? I'm already pregnant," Quinn scoffed, "---with_ her_ grandchild."

"Exactly," Puck concurred densely.

Quinn glared at him incredulously. Maybe it was the hormones, but her alpha-bitch disposition instantly returned, and at full force. "Ya know what Noah? You will work harder---tonight. You will convince your mother to let me stay at your house. And come tomorrow, I will be arriving to school with Santana, and going home with you."

Her storm out was oddly similar to one Rachel gave yesterday.

Out of the corner of his eye there was movement. Puck shifted to his left to find Wheels hunched and glancing back at him over his shoulder. Their eyes met for the briefest of seconds until Artie turned his attention back to his guitar case. Puck didn't bother with words, he just grunted and frustratedly kicked at the air before rushing the room.

Artie mused that Puck's was too.


	2. Chapter 2

_**An authors note---Wow, what a response. Thank you all so much for the wonderful reviews, alerts and favorites. Just a quick warning---this story is rated T for a reason---strong language ahead.  
**_

**_Disclaimer---Glee is the property of FOX, the creators and the writers. _**

**_Lean on Me_**

Quinn left school, as promised, with Puck the following day.

No body expected it to be co-habital bliss, but Quinn seemed genuinely happy about her current living arrangements---at least in the very beginning she was. The change was gradual, but one that Artie picked up on right away. It was the Monday after Thanksgiving break, just about two weeks since she'd moved in with Puck, and Quinn was more off than usual.

"And girls step up take your partners hand---."

"Sorry," Artie muttered when Quinn's limp hand slipped from his grasp. He tried again, this time with a firm but gentle grip.

"Ladies, glide up to your partners. Boys, spin them once---."

"Sorry," Artie repeated, apologizing this time because his reach wasn't quite long enough for her to complete the turn without becoming tangled up in his arm.

"It's almost like a waltz guys. Slow and purposeful. Perfect for this ballad. Now girls circle around---".

Maybe it was because Artie was too busy studying the hollow expression on her face to pay attention to where his right front wheel was, or because Quinn was so obviously preoccupied that she hadn't noticed where her foot was in relation to said wheel.

"Ow!"

"God Quinn. I'm so sorry."

"Dammit Artie---would you just quit apologizing."

Quinn hadn't realized she'd yelled until she heard the words echo through the now silent auditorium. She glanced down for a second and the expression on Artie's face nearly broke her heart in two. He looked like a wounded puppy.

"Let's take five guys," Mr. Shuester called out with the clap of his hands. The crowd quickly dispersed, with the exception of Artie Quinn, and Puck lingering somewhere off stage. "You okay Quinn?" Will asked tenderly.

Quinn quickly glanced down at her throbbing toes, then back up at her teacher. "Fine," she answered, forcing a smile. "Just a little out of sync today I guess."

"Mr. Shue?" Artie's voice was soft, and it cracked slightly, but his features were set determinately. "It was my fault. I wasn't watching where---."

"My footing was off," Quinn cut in, shooting Artie a death glare for his dammed chivalry. "They've become a little harder to see lately," she added, smoothing her hand over her growing baby bump.

Mr. Shuester looked skeptically between the pair. "Are you sure that's it?"

Artie glanced up sideways at Quinn to see her nodding. He frowned. He was only trying to help.

Although not completely convinced, Will accepted her response and turned to walk away. But then something occurred to him. "You know, we could always change the choreography a little if that would be easier for the two of you," he offered half a second later.

"No."

"Yes."

Quinn sent another squinty glare Artie's way. She was shocked. He always insisted that no changes ever be made to any of the choreography just because he was having a hard time keeping up with the others. No special treatment, he said. I'll just work a little harder to get it right, he vowed. _So why the double standard now? Right, the pregnant girl. What a hypocrite__._

Will misconstrued Quinn's clipped tone and irritated expression as signs she had a strong dislike for Artie. Something that couldn't be farther from the truth. "You know what? You two have been paired a lot lately. I think I'll give you guys a little break from one another. So Quinn, tomorrow I'm gonna have you rehearse this routine with Matt and Artie, you'll be with Tina."

A squawk of protest erupted from Artie, but before he could form actual words, the rest of the group was slowly filing in from their break. "Wait, Mr. Shue---," he called out to his teachers retreating back. Artie pushed forward a few feet, but by then, Will was already headed down the stage steps toward the others. "Quinn?" Artie pleaded, looking back over his shoulder at her. She was ignoring him and that hurt, but her lack of opposition to Mr. Shuester's decision hurt even worse. However, what happened next was the most painful, as she rushed past him without so much as a word of explanation or a glance backwards.

The rest of the week went pretty much the same way---well actually, it got worse.

Not only did Quinn's moodiness alienate herself from the rest of the gleeks, but she was still off in rehearsals, even after being paired with Matt, and her and Puck came in arguing every day.

"I still don't see what the problem is."

Quinn quickly spun on her heel and glared icily at him. "Are you kidding?" she spat incredulously as she pulled up the sleeve of her sweater. Puck looked about as oblivious as usual. "That little creep bit me Noah."

Brittany whispered something into Santana's ear, Rachel raise a speculative eye, Finn tried his best to ignore them, and Kurt shared a look with Mercedes and Tina. Artie just sat, listening curiously. "Yeah, but you really hurt her feelings this morning," Puck countered.

"By eating a stupid Pop-tart?" she returned sharply.

"It was the the last pack and they were the strawberry frosted ones," he maintained, "Those are her favorites."

Quinn scoffed. "Well excuse me for eating the one item in that stupid apartment that comes the closest to resembling actual fruit."

"We have fruit," Puck protested. "My mom bought some bananas."

"When, a month ago?" she challenged. "Those things are turning brown and oozing Noah." Quinn took in a deep breath and pinched the bridge of her nose. "I just don't know how much more I can take living in that tiny apartment with the wicked witch of the west and that rabid little beast you call a sister."

Puck scowled at her, clenching his jaw as he retorted sarcastically, "Sorry it ain't no four seasons Babe."

"You're a bastard Noah Puckerman," she hissed just before running out of the room.

"Yeah well just remember---," Puck yelled after her, "---this is what you asked for."

The dead air that followed only lasted the few seconds it took for Puck to make his less dramatic move to the back corner of the classroom. "Well, that was unfortunate," Rachel commented, causing the rest of the group to gape at her quizzically. "What I mean to say is, it is unfortunate that because of Quinn's abrupt departure, the numbers are now off. Therefore, we will be unable to rehearse the group number." She paused, making sure she was wearing her best grief-stricken expression before offering, "I suppose I could rehearse my solo---."

"That won't be necessary Rachel," Artie cut in, pushing himself into the small circle that had formed. He glanced up at Will. "Mr. Shue, I think I'm just gonna sit this one out." He looked over at Tina who gave him a nod of agreement. "Matt can have his partner back." Tina passed Artie on her way over to Matt. The smile his best friend flashed him, gave him the needed encouragement to do what he was about to.

Will met Artie's eyes to make sure he was certain. "Okay," he acquiesced, clapping his hands together. "Let's take it from the top guys."

On his way out, Artie wasn't able to see the dissatisfaction Rachel was harboring over Mr. Shuester's decision, or the way she stalked over to her place beside Finn---but he most certainly heard it.

"You keep storming off like this and we're gonna have to start calling you Rachel."

Quinn didn't bother to look up at the owner of the soothing voice that broke through her thoughts. She didn't need to. Nor did she care to wipe the tears from her cheeks as he pulled up next to her. "Please Artie---not now."

He respected her request and just contented himself to sit next to her in silence. "Now? he asked playfully, after only a few minutes. Quinn did her best to fight the urge to respond. But Artie had this infectious quality about him, just being around him could instantly make anyone feel better. She managed a smile. Artie returned the gesture as well. "Better?"

Quinn started with a nod, then a shrug, but settled on a shake of the head. "My life is so incredibly fucked up right now Artie," she groaned.

"Wow, spoken like a true Puckerman," Artie teased lightly.

"Well considering it's about every other word I hear, it should be no surprise it's rubbed off on me." Her tone was bitter and sarcastic, but Artie could hear the hurt and insecurity as well. "I'm going to hell anyway, so what does it matter if I curse."

"Quinn?" Artie pleaded.

"Or maybe I'm already in hell---because if not, the Puckerman household is a really close second."

Artie sighed heavily and reached out to touch her arm. "Quinn, you're not going to hell---."

But before he could finish, Quinn had lunged at him, throwing her arms around his shoulders and clinging to him for dear life. The angle was awkward and uncomfortable for both. Artie contemplated moving closer, but his hands were currently occupied, rubbing soothing patterns on Quinn's back as she sobbed into his chest. "Shh Quinn, it's okay. Everything is going to be okay."

"How Artie?" she cried desperately. "I've run out of options and I still have over five and a half months to go in this pregnancy. I mean, my family doesn't want anything to do with me, I can't get along with the baby's father or his family, and I---."

"You do have other options Quinn," Artie cut in softly. Quinn slowly pushed out of his embrace to look at him. His hands quickly fell back into his lap, clasped together and wringing nervously. "My offer still stands if you're interested."

Quinn recalled the conversation they had in this very same spot two weeks ago. The kind invitation she traded for the purgatory she was currently living in. As tempting as it sounded, her principles remained the same. "Again Artie, that's really sweet of you, but I just can't." The same look of disappointment flashed across his face. "You're the only kid in this club---heck probably the entire school---with a relatively normal family life. All of my excess baggage would just totally screw that up."

Artie lifted his eyes and shrugged, a small smirk playing at his lips. "We Abrams tend to adjust well in the face of adversity."

Quinn let out a soft giggle through her sniffling. She studied Artie's face for a sign that he was being anything less than completely sincere. She found none. "Are you sure?"

"I wouldn't have asked if I wasn't," he replied casually, a confident air about him. "My parents know all about the situation and they're cool with it. In fact, it was my mom who suggested I offer you the use of our spare bedroom." Taken aback, Quinn stared intently at him. Artie playfully nudged her shoulder with his, and smiled. "And I know she'd really like to have another girl in the house."

Fresh tears filled Quinn's eyes as she realized this was way more than just a friendly gesture from a kind-hearted classmate. This was a chance to be a part of a real family again---a family that actually wanted her. "I think I'd like that too."

Artie tried to keep his enthusiasm in check, but the widening grin he was sporting was every indication that he wasn't doing a very good job. "Okay, so my mom'll be here after rehearsal to pick me up. We can take you to grab your things, unless you'd rather just get a ride from Puck. In that case---."

"A ride from your mom will be fine Artie," Quinn cut in softly. Smiling as she noted his shy, self-consciousness return. "My cars at Noah's too."

"Great, so you can follow us home, then."

Home. As wonderful a prospect as that was, Quinn couldn't help but feel she was somehow taking advantage of the Abrams---and she hadn't even packed her bags yet. "I promise this will only last until I can arrange something more permanent. I have money so I can pay for all of my own things and I'll earn my keep by helping around the house, doing chores and what-not."

"Quinn relax, my parents said you can stay as long as you want. There's no need to be nervous," he chuckled, "it's not like we bite or anything." Artie didn't catch the indirect reference he'd made until Quinn let out an undignified snort that quickly dissolved into a fit of giggles. "Sorry, I didn't mean---."

"No, it was funny," she assured him, unconsciously touching her bandaged left arm. There was a pause, and when Artie glanced back up, Quinn was staring at him with a look in her eyes he had never seen before. Like he'd just jumped in front of a bus to save her. She pushed up onto her knees so that she was eye level with him and reached out to separate his clenched hands with hers. "Thank you Artie for everything," she hesitated as she gave a gentle squeeze. "I think I'm really gonna like living with your family."

Artie reddened slightly. "Oh I wouldn't go making any brash assumptions." He offered Quinn the use of his forearms which she graciously accepted. "Remember, I have two younger siblings." With a little help, she was lifted from her knees. "A pre-pubescent teen-aged brother, and a little sister even younger than Puck's."

"She's not the spawn of Satan, is she?" Quinn asked, deadpan.

Artie laughed. "No. Abbey's a total sweetheart," he replied, playing along. "It's my brother I'm not so sure about."

It was now Quinn's turn to laugh. And as she was brushing herself off, Artie caught a glimpse of the wall clock down the hall. "Think you're ready to go back now and face the music?" he asked.

"Now that one was bad." Quinn rolled her eyes playfully at his lame attempt to be naturally witty. His words soon hit home though, and she let a small groan escape her lips. "Oh God, I screwed up rehearsal for everyone. Again. Tina and Matt are probably furious."

Artie shook his head, "No. I'm pretty sure they're both happy to get rid of us." Quinn gave him a quizzical look, so he took the opportunity to explain. "Matt and Tina are partnered for today" he paused to glance up hopefully at her, "I'm sure Mr. Shue would give us our old partners back---that is if you'd still like to be my partner."

"Are you kidding?" she asked incredulously. "Matt has huge feet. He was constantly stepping on mine. Now I know why Tina wears steel-toed boots." Artie let out a small chuckle and watched as Quinn spun around to the back of his chair. The act of having someone push him was not something Artie took lightly. So far, outside of family, only Tina had permission to do so.

Without reservation, Artie suddenly found himself happily surrendering. He folded his hands into his lap---and let Quinn Fabray take the reigns.

**_ANx2---Well, this one was a little longer and with more detail(I hope). I'm a little confused with the Gleeworld time-line, as I don't think it was ever mentioned when Quinn is actually due in the show. Because of this, I will be making up my own time-line to fit the story. The next chapter will be a continuation of this one, but will become singles again after that. Thanks again to all of you wonderful readers. Reviews are love._**


	3. Chapter 3

_**An authors note---Amazing, really. I cannot even begin to express my gratitude for the wonderful response to this story so far. **__**Since I will be incorporating elements from my studies into this story, there will be some mention/discussion of the complexities of Artie's condition throughout the remaining chapters. While sensitive in nature to some, my intention is to go about this in a delicate but straightforward manner, yet not make it the main focus---that is still, of course, the Artie/Quinn friendship.**_

**_Disclaimer---Glee is the property of FOX, the creators and the writers. _**

**_Lean on Me_**

Artie had every intention of helping with the move when he exited the van with Quinn. But instead found himself perched on the sidewalk outside, able only to stare up at the large apartment building and wait. His mother suggested he head back to the van where it was warm after Puck came out to meet them, mumbling something about 'the third floor and no elevator', but Artie declined.

Quinn finally emerged from the building after five or so minutes with Noah, clad in only jeans and a t-shirt, in tow and carrying two duffel bags. Artie extended his arms expectantly. Puck paused to thoughtfully gauge the weight and bulkiness of the two bags, considering first the option of just carrying them to the van himself. But he didn't want to bruise the poor kids ego, especially not after what Artie and his family were willing to do for his baby and her mother.

"You make sure you take care of them Abrams," he warned, in a gentle but firm tone, as he passed the larger of the two bags to Artie.

Artie couldn't help relishing in the warmth that spread over him. "I will," he replied confidently, adjusting the parcel to fit on his lap. "I promise."

Puck nodded in approval, avoiding Quinn's gaze as he handed her the other bag. Feeling a sudden chill, weather it was from the wind or a slight twinge of loss, Noah crossed his bare arms over his chest. Artie looked up at Quinn after a minute or so of uncomfortable silence. "Ready?" he asked softly.

Quinn glanced over her shoulder, eyes meeting for the briefest of moments before Noah abruptly turned and jogged back into his apartment building. She looked back down at the encouraging smile Artie was giving her and nodded.

The ride home was spent in relative quiet, save for rustling of Artie's jacket every time he glanced over his shoulder to see if Quinn was still following behind them---and the constant ringing of their cell phones. The first call was from Abbey to her mother, to ask when they'd be home. While the second, at just three minutes later, was to see if she could have another snack. The third, to Artie this time, was the precocious seven year old calling to complain about her current babysitter, Andy.

"I'm sorry about that squirt." Alicia could hear her son say soothingly. "Tell him Mom and I are on our way."

"Then tell him if he doesn't stop, he'll have to answer to me."

"Well it won't be so funny when I get home," Artie mumbled. Alicia figured more to himself than to his little sister and smiled. "Okay Abbs, we're almost there---."

Directly behind the Abrams van, Quinn took the turn into the semi-private subdivision. She made a left down the next street, tree-lined and blanketed with a multitude of generously sized custom houses. Another loop and halfway down the block, Mrs. Abrams finally pulled into a driveway on the right.

Quinn slowly stepped from her car, using the time to take in the beauty of the two-story, red brick house in front of her. Not at all what she expected. She'd half figured the Abrams lived modestly in one of the more mature sections of Lima, in a typical one story sided home complete with obtrusive wooden ramp that screamed of a handicapped occupant. Here, the only noticeable difference between the houses was, instead of the graduated steps from the drive to the front porch, Artie's walkway was smooth, slightly sloped concrete---and only noticeable if you knew what to be looking for.

She was even more surprised when she walked through the front door. Scanning the open floor plan, warm hues, rich oak and the scent of cinnamon invaded her senses. The home was inviting and neat, but definitely lived in. Her eyes finally came to rest on the plush carpeted staircase to her left, and the chair lift that was obviously there for Artie.

"You'll be staying up in my room." Artie's gentle voice snapped Quinn out of her reverie. He set her bags at the base of the stairs. "Third door on the left."

"Oh Artie no. I-I can't take your bedroom," she sputtered in refusal.

Artie let out a small chuckle. "No sorry, it's actually my old room," he amended apologetically, but kept his smile wide. "I moved down here about four years ago when it got too hard for me to get around up there."

"Oh," Quinn breathed a sigh of relief. It was never her intention to make any of the Abrams uproot themselves for her.

Suddenly, there was a squeal from overhead, followed by a bounding blur of pink and denim chanting "you're home, you're home, you're home" continuously, until she jumped from the bottom step into Artie lap.

"Yeah, for like five whole minutes already," Artie chuckled at his little sister. "So what were you doing hiding up in your bedroom?"

Abbey glanced discretely in the other direction. "He was absolutely impossible today," she declared irrefutably.

It took complete self control for the two of them not to break out into a fit of laughter. "Yes. I recall you mentioning that somewhere in our conversation earlier," Artie replied.

"He wouldn't even help me with my homework Artie," Abbey whined slightly. "So could you check my math and quiz my for my spelling test after dinner?"

"Don't I always?" he teased playfully, giving her tummy a little tickle.

Wriggling from her brothers grasp, Abbey threw her head back and caught a glimpse of the overlooked guest standing near the alcove in the foyer. She sprang up and smiled. "Hey, you're Quinn right?" The blond nodded. "I'm Abbey." There was a pause as Abbey's intently studied Quinn, seemingly oblivious to the protruding baby bump. "Wow, you're really beautiful." Abbey turned to her brother and whispered something into his ear.

Artie turned an interesting shade of pink as he nodded. "Yes Abbey, she is very beautiful," he answered softly. It was Quinn's turn to blush now. Artie cleared his throat and shifted as much as he could with sixty extra pounds on his lap. "Whadda you say we give Quinn that grand tour now?"

Without budging from her perch, Abbey nodded. "Let's roll."

The pair made excellent tour guides, thoroughly explaining the workings of the Abrams household. They hung out in the kitchen with Mrs. Abrams for a while before continuing on through the dining room. As they passed a short but wide hallway, Abbey pulled her brothers chair to a stop and pointed. "Artie's room is right down there."

Nothing like adding a precocious seven year-old to the mix to amplify the awkwardness of having your pregnant classmate suddenly become your housemate. "And uh, the laundry room," Artie supplemented timidly, glancing up at Quinn. "But um, you can access it through the kitchen too. Not my room, that is. The laundry room."

They quickly moved on to the family room. "Where we spend most of our time," Artie announced casually.

"And that's our brother," Abbey whispered, pointing to the surly teen splayed out on the couch.

"Andy," Artie called out on his way over to him. Unsurprisingly, there was no reaction. Artie moved into his brothers field of vision, effectively blocking his view of the television screen, forcing Andy to look at him. "This is Quinn. Quinn, this is Andy."

Andy made no other movement, just gave a flick of his chin to go with his greeting, "Hey." He took a spilt second to look Quinn up and down, a smirk of approval playing on his he scooted over and turned his attention back to his video game.

Artie let out a small sigh. "Mom told you that Quinn is going to be staying with us for a while."

"So?" Andy shrugged indifferently, eyes still trained on the tv screen.

"So, you're going to be nice. Right?" Artie asked next, but it came out almost as a warning.

Andy huffed, "Yeah. Fine. Whatever," as he tossed the game controller onto the coffee table and stalked out of the room.

Artie looked up at Quinn and offered her an apologetic smile. "Sorry about my brother. He um, gets kinda moody sometimes."

"Try all the time," Abbey grumbled, using a tone that was far beyond her seven years. Quinn and Artie couldn't hold back the laughter this time.

There was chattering coming from the kitchen, followed by an announcement that dinner was almost ready and it was now time to set the table. Quinn trailed Artie as he turned and propelled himself and Abbey back toward the kitchen. "Hey Artie," Andy taunted, motioning over his shoulder as walked up to his brother. "Dad just got home with your catheters."

Artie froze, completely mortified. He was well aware of the fact that Quinn was close behind him, and from the smug look on Andy's face, she'd heard everything. Artie politely shooed Abbey off his lap before glaring up at his brother. "You're a jerk. You know that?" he gritted under his breath as he moved past Andy.

"Hey Ace," Mr. Abrams greeted his eldest son enthusiastically. "I picked up that stuff you needed." Artie could only manage a nod, a bright red flush climbing up his neck and rimming his ears. "Mom also had the pharmacist refill two of your prescriptions---allergy stuff and the muscle relaxant."

"Thanks," Artie murmured dismissively.

"Something wrong?" Art asked, misinterpreting Artie's demeanor for a mistake on his part. "I don't think I forgot anything." He reached for his list. "The cream, the patches for that pressure sore on your leg, the meds, the---."

"No Dad," Artie quickly cut his father off. "You didn't forget anything."

"Good." Art let out a relieved sigh, watching as Artie began gathering his supplies. "Here, let me help you with that."

"I got it Dad. Thanks. Annoyed, he finished stowing the items in his lap and pushed off for his bedroom.

Ever astute to her sons mannerisms, but busy with dinner prep, Alicia was unaware of the awkwardness the previous exchange created. That was until she glanced up to see that Quinn was standing near the threshold of the kitchen, staring after Artie with a concerned look on her face. Alicia cleared her throat,"Um Art honey, you remember Quinn."

Quinn's head turned at the mention of her name, just as Art looked over to where his wife had motioned. "Yes Quinn. Hello," he greeted pleasantly, walking toward her and offering his hand, "It's nice to see you again."

Quinn stepped into the room, accepting the gesture with a timid nod of her head. "Thank you for letting me stay here Mr. Abrams. I really appreciate it."

"Anything for a friend in need," Art insisted emphatically, then moved to carry the platter his wife had just finished preparing.

Quinn couldn't help but smile at the Abrams unwavering hospitality. Suddenly, a little body appeared next to her. "You wanna help me with the glasses Quinn?" Abbey asked eagerly.

"Sure," Quinn agreed, but only after a quick glace over her shoulder, in the direction of Artie's room.

"You can sit next to me," a hopeful Abbey requested as they walked into the dinning room.

Quinn smiled down at the little girl. "I would like that Abbey. Thank you."

That made Alicia smile. "But first, could you go see what's keeping your brother?" she asked of her daughter.

Abbey nodded just as Artie was wheeling in. "I'm here," he acknowledged the obvious, eyes cast down until they fell pointedly on his little sister. "I'm not out of the room for five minutes and already I've been replaced?" he added, his tone teasing.

Abbey gasped in alarm. "Sorry Artie, I---I just thought Quinn would feel more comfortable sitting next to a girl," she tried to clairfy.

"It's fine Abbs." Artie let out a small chuckle. "I was just playing with you."

"You could sit here instead?" Alicia playfully suggested her spot to Artie, located at the far end of table, with Andy on one side and Abbey on the other.

"That's okay Mom," he declined, and set out to move the dinning chair out of his way.

"Andy, could you please help your brother?" Alicia asked softly, politely trying to direct Andy's attention to Artie's struggle, since he was sitting right next to it. But all she got was an indignant glare.

Quinn immediately felt guilty. Not only had she taken Artie's usual spot at the table, filling the open space with the chair she'd found discarded in the corner, but she also succeeded in preventing his access to any other spot. "Here let me."

She volunteered, just as Mr. Abrams rose from his seat to remove the offending obstacle. "That's okay Quinn, I've got it." Artie gave his dad an appreciative nod and somewhat reluctantly pulled into the spot next to his brother and directly across from Quinn. Now if only she would quit staring at him and Andy could keep his stupid mouth shut for the next hour, he might actually be able to enjoy his dinner.

The food was passed around as usual, and plates were filled. "You picked a good day to come Quinn," Mr. Abrams quipped, "Taco night is always a big hit."

Quinn smiled. She liked Artie's family so much already. Her parents weren't usually this social until they'd consumed their second or third drink and her sister was a royal bitch. She hoped she wasn't being too forward when she asked her next question. "Do you say Grace before meals?"

Andy's fork clinked against his plate as he choked down the helping of rice he'd just shoveled in. "Not as often as we should," Mrs. Abrams answered truthfully, her smile as bright and warm as her eyes. "Would you like to do the honors?"

A little apprehensively, Quinn nodded and reached to her right for Abbey's hand and her left for Mr. Abrams. When she looked up, she was met with a brilliant blue. Artie smiled.

Quinn exhaled, "Bless us oh Lord---."

Between dinner, dessert and dishes, many of Quinn's questions were answered---as well as some she didn't even know she had. She learned that Mr. Abrams was an architect, while Mrs. Abrams was an accountant who worked part-time as a loan manager at a local bank. Andy was still a bit of an enigma, but Quinn was able to find out that he was an eighth grader at Pine Grove middle school, a super jock who played every sport available and had just celebrated his fourteenth birthday that past Monday. With Abbey however, Quinn quickly learned everything from her favorite food, to favorite color, to favorite television show---and just about everything else in between. Artie kept each of the conversations going, Quinn figured, to keep the focus off of himself and what had happened earlier.

This was Artie's home and the last thing Quinn wanted was for him to feel uncomfortable around her, especially when it came to his disability. She needed to say something to him but the opportunity never came up; for as soon as the cleanup was complete, the family quickly dispersed. Mr. Abrams returned to the dinning room with Andy to oversee that he actually did his homework. Mrs. Abrams headed upstairs with Abbey for bath time. And Artie mysteriously disappeared to his bedroom.

Quinn took the time to familiarize herself with the Abrams home. She easily found the laundry room entrance from the kitchen leading out to the area that housed the guest bath and a third door, the only one closed, that Quinn determined must belong to Artie. She traveled slowly down the hallway, studying the photos inside each neatly lined frame. It led her back out to the family room where even more pictures were on display. Quinn soon concluded that Mrs. Abrams must have been a photographer in a past life.

"Oh Quinn. I didn't know you were still down here," Art announced his presence in the form of an apology. "I'm sorry we left you all alone."

"It's fine Mr. Abrams. I was just---."

"Getting the lay of the land," he finished for her. Quinn smiled and nodded. "Well, Andy's just on his way up. He can help you with your bags and show you to your room."

"Thanks, I'd appreciate that."

Quinn followed Andy up the stairs. "This is Fartie's old room," he snickered and dropped the bags onto the bed. Adding a simple "Enjoy" on his way out. The room was simple, pale blue walls, twin bed, two dressers and a nightstand. There was an overhead light with a ceiling fan and a small older model television set equipped with a dvd player and cable hookup. Quinn was so focused on unpacking her bags she almost didn't hear the soft knock on the door frame.

"Hey." She gasped at his voice, then spun around to face him. He looked so different. Obviously dressed for bed in black flannel pajama pants and a grey sweatshirt. White athletic socks, which Quinn was pretty sure she'd never seen him wear. Not that she was always looking at his feet, but colorful argyle seemed to be the norm. His hair was mussed, still slightly damp from his shower and he smelled of a musky clean, not that pungent cologne scent of most men's bath products. Nice.

"Just came to see if everything was okay," he explained with a shy shrug. "And to make sure my mom didn't put my old Batman sheets on the bed."

Quinn shook her head and let out a small giggle. She stepped closer to him, chewing on her lower lip, a slightly perplexed look on her face. "I---um, how---."

Artie smirked. "I never said I couldn't get up here---just that I have a hard time getting around when _I am_ up here."

"There you are," a small but demanding voice called out from the doorway of the next room. "I've been waiting forever."

Artie pivoted to face Abbey. "What's it tonight Squirt?" he asked, grinning.

Abbey hesitated for a moment before deciding. "Sleeping Beauty." Artie nodded obediently and pushed toward her room. "Aren't you coming Quinn?" the little girl asked enthusiastically.

"Last call for the bedtime story express," Artie called out playfully. Her questioning eyes met his hopeful ones. Now how could she say no to that? He glanced over his shoulder at the handles of his chair. "Hold on tight." Quinn did what she was told, watching as Abbey grabbed on to the metal frame of Artie's chair and expertly steered it through the tight space of the hall and into her room---all while walking backwards. "Please keep all body parts inside the vehicle at all times," Artie announced in his best train conductor voice.

Quinn could see why that would be so important. They barely cleared the corner, getting Artie only halfway inside before his chair scraped against the wood of the entrance. It was then that Quinn noticed the decorative trim had been removed from Abbey's doorway all together, which would explain why Artie was left sitting outside his former room---he couldn't get in.

Quinn took a seat on the foot of Abbey's bed as she climbed in. The little girl patted the space next to her and looked at her brother expectantly. "Ah---not tonight Squirt."

"But you always do," Abbey pleaded. "What good is a bedtime story if you're not there as my pillow"

Another pang of guilt hit Quinn. She could tell Artie was reluctant to move out of his chair because she was there. She was just about to excuse herself from the room when Artie suggested, "What if Quinn snuggles with you this time?"

Abbey's eyes widened in surprise, almost as much as Quinn's. She quickly returned the gentle smile Artie was giving her and agreed wholeheartedly. "Sure."

"I won't hurt the baby right?" Abbey asked apprehensively.

Quinn was floored. The subject had never come up once. She had no idea Abbey even knew she was pregnant. "No Abbey, you can't hurt the baby," Quinn assured her, rubbing a hand across her belly. "She'll be fine."

"You know it's a girl?" Abbey squealed excitedly. Quinn nodded as she slid her legs under the plush comforter.

Artie started to read, "Once upon a time---." And Abbey easily settled herself against Quinn's side. After the story there was a request for a song, and they serenaded her with not one, but two duets.

With Abbey nestled warm in her bed, Quinn found herself following Artie out of her room. They were alone on the landing now, and Quinn felt like she should do something. But what was appropriate? Should she shake his hand, offer to help him get back downstairs, say goodnight and just leave? She watched Artie swiveled around to line up even with the seat of the chairlift.

As he was lifting his head, Quinn took the opportunity to wrap one arm around his shoulders in a half embrace. The connection must have taken Artie by surprise because it took him a second to hug back. "Goodnight Artie," she whispered into his ear.

Artie glanced up as they broke apart, and replied, "Goodnight Quinn." He waited until the door closed behind her before heading back to his own room.

It was well after midnight and Quinn had been trying to get to sleep for nearly two hours now. It was impossible. Her brain was on complete overload, she kept waking up to pee, and her stomach felt like it was twisting in knots. She tossed and turned for about ten more minutes before finally giving up and went downstairs.

She thought of putting on the tv. But why, didn't she already have a tv in her bedroom? Maybe a video game or a movie. Or a book, a book would be good. In the end though, she settled on just a small snack to quell her grumbling stomach. The milk was easy to find, the glasses proved to be a little more challenging. Leaving the door to the refrigerator open for light, Quinn began searching the cabinets. She just found the right one when a soft voice called out from behind her, "Quinn?"

"Oh, Artie," she gasped, clutching the glass to her chest so it wouldn't fall and break.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."

"I didn't mean to wake you."

"You didn't," Artie managed through a yawn and Quinn knew then that he was he was only saying that to appease her. "What's wrong, can't sleep in a strange house?"

"Ah no actually," she blushed slightly, and placed her hand over her belly, "midnight cravings."

Artie smiled back, now fully awake. "So, what are you two in the mood for?" he asked playfully.

Quinn shrugged. "I'm not sure definitely sweet---but salty sounds good too."

"Like pickles and ice cream?" Artie teased, scanning the contents of the fridge.

"I think that's a myth," Quinn replied playfully.

Artie glanced up at her, a wide grin on his face. "Care to debunk that myth with me?", he asked in challenge.

Quinn raised her brow. "Where do you keep the pickles?"


	4. Chapter 4

_**An authors note---Again, super happy with the positive response and alerts went right through the roof. Thank you all so much. I'm glad to see that most of you(the ones who reviewed at least) are enjoying the family/friendship dynamic going on. There will much more of that to come, as well as(and this is for you Char-chan) a more in-depth glimpse into the other aspects of Artie's life.**_

**_Disclaimer---Glee is the property of FOX, the creators and the writers. _**

**_Lean on Me_**

Quinn was surprised with how readily the Abrams accepted her into their family. In fact by the next day, Friday, her and Artie---albeit somewhat sleepy and still a tad queasy from their late night snack session---spent the entire school day joking, discretely goofing off in class, even eating lunch together, as if it was what they'd always done.

On Saturday, Quinn woke up to the delicious smell of pancakes and bacon wafting in from the kitchen and realized she could get very used to this. Not bothering with formality, she quickly pulled her hair back into a messy ponytail, trudged into her robe and slippers and headed downstairs. The first surprise to hit her as she walked into the kitchen was that the entire family was up and dressed, ready to start their day---well everyone, except for the notably absent Artie.

Mrs. Abrams looked up from the bowl of batter she was mixing. "Morning Quinn," she greeted warmly.

"Good morning," she replied softly.

"Mom's making pancakes," Abbey announced cheerfully as she slid off of the stool she was sitting on at the center island and bounded toward Quinn. "They're my favorite."

"Mine too," Quinn concurred, smiling down the little girl who was currently hugging her. Abbey abruptly broke the embrace and pulled Quinn in the rest of the way to reveal the second surprise in the form of unexpected company. "Oh, hi Tina," Quinn acknowledged after she was all but thrown into the seat next to her fellow glee club member.

Tina glanced up from the holiday toy catalog her and Abbey were sharing. "Hey Quinn," she answered casually, as if it was the most normal thing for the two of them to be sitting down together for breakfast, on a Saturday morning, with the Abrams.

Feeling more than a little self-conscious, Quinn pulled her robe a bit tighter around her shoulders and scanned the room. "So um---where's Artie?"

"Physio," Tina and Abbey answered nonchalantly, and in unison, without even bothering to look up.

"Oh," Quinn let out a hesitant sigh and Alicia could see the perplexed expression that clouded her pretty features.

"Physical therapy," Mrs. Abrams kindly explained.

"Every Saturday morning and Wednesdays after school," Abbey added matter-of-fact, her attention still affixed to the magazine in front of her. "I like this one," she told Tina a second later, pointing to an item on the page.

"What?" Tina laughed incredulously. "That's so girly."

"I am a girl, Silly," Abbey giggled in reply.

Tina playfully bumped her head with Abbey's. "Oh yeah, I forgot," she replied jokingly.

Alicia smiled at the easy exchange between the two girls, then returned to the subject of Artie. "We'll go pick him after breakfast."

"Then it's tree trimming time," Tina cheered excitedly.

"But we have to actually_ get_ the tree _first_ Tina," Abbey reminded her teasingly.

Quinn took a glance at the clock and moved to excuse herself, "I'd better go get ready then."

"Wait Quinn," Mr. Abrams called out as he moved to retrieve the orange juice from the fridge, "food's just about done."

"And Artie won't be finished until after ten," Alicia added, transferring the warm pancakes to a platter. After a moments consideration, she regarded Quinn apologetically. "I hope that gives you enough time---we would have woken you up earlier, but Artie said you were having trouble sleeping and we figured you could use the rest."

Quinn couldn't stop the smile that spread across her lips. She'd have to thank Artie later for being so considerate, even if he was complaining the night before that he was going to pack on the pounds if they kept up these late night soirees. She playfully reminded him that he neither had to get out of bed to join her, nor did he have to share in what she was snacking on, but teased a moment later that it probably wouldn't hurt for him to fatten up that scrawny frame of his. Quinn nodded appreciatively at the Abrams as she answered, "Thanks. And yes, I'll have plenty of time to get ready."

"Great, let's eat," Mr. Abrams stated, hungrily rubbing his hands together.

The group sat down to breakfast. It was about halfway through the scrumptious meal and boisterous conversation, though, that Quinn inexplicably found herself missing Artie a little.

After picking up Artie from physiotherapy, they all headed over to the junior high for Andy's basketball game. When that was over, they grabbed some lunch on the run and scoured the town to find the perfect Christmas tree. It proved to be a relatively easy task, with the third lot the charm and they arrived safely at home just as dusk was approaching.

Even though she was exhausted from the the flurry of the days activities, Quinn couldn't help but get caught up in the others excitement. Not even out of his jacket yet, Artie had already slipped a cd into the player, filling the house with the soft sounds of the the holidays. Mr. Abrams and Andy, with the help of Tina and Mrs. Abrams, were able to get the tree into the house and over to the empty stand, sitting by the large window bay of the family room.

Just as Abbey and Quinn started sorting through boxes of decorations, Artie returned to the family room with a giant bowl of popcorn on his lap. "That's not for stringing, is it?" Quinn asked, looking nervously from Artie to the mammoth tree.

"No," he laughed, setting the bowl on the coffee table and taking a handful. "It's for eating." Quinn let out a sigh of relief and returned the smile Artie was giving her.

The kids were having a great time, laughing and singing along with the carols---even Mrs. Abrams joined in a few songs as she was hanging the lights on the tree. She had a beautiful voice and Quinn quickly concluded that she was from whom Artie inherited his amazing singing abilities.

Because the arduous task of decorating was extending well into the evening, Mr. Abrams ordered pizzas for dinner and they all ate around the currently bare tree. Quinn noted the same nightly rituals of the past two days carried over into the weekend as well, with Mrs. Abrams and Abbey retreating upstairs and Artie, a little while later, to his bedroom. She found herself alone again---not with Mr. Abrams and Andy, who were outside lighting the bushes---but with Tina.

To describe these two girls as polar opposites was an understatement. Sure, when looking at them, the differences were astounding. Tina's olive complexion and jet black(and royal blue) hair to Quinn's fair skin and blond locks. Quinn's traditional style to Tina's eclectic one. But that's where the differences end.

In reality, these two girls were much more alike than they were different.

Both were extremely intelligent students, in advanced classes and with good grades. Both had a deep appreciation for music, the glee club and Mr. Shuester and enjoyed performing with them. Both were painfully shy, one withdrawing into herself to hide behind a fake stutter and combat boots while the other armored herself with an alpha-bitch attitude and a Cheerios uniform. Both came from strict families with high expectations, and a warped sense of parental duty. And both kept a deep, dark secret that ended up hurting the people they cared about the most.

Yet neither one knew anything about the other.

Quinn rifled through another box, softly humming to the tune of the stereo. Tina joined in and they soon began harmonizing together. The two girls shared a smile as the music faded out. "You have a really pretty voice Quinn."

Quinn blushed at the compliment. She never really thought so---felt her voice was a little too high pitched and nasally---which was probably why Mr. Shue had yet to give her a solo."Thanks," she returned graciously, "So do you."

Unfortunately, after that exchange, another wave of uncomfortable silence fell over the room. A few more anxious minutes passed before Quinn finally spoke up. "So, is this a holiday tradition with you and the Abrams?" she asked casually.

Tina shook her head and smiled. "Nope, first time for me too."

"Really?" Tina nodded her answer. Quinn felt the need to apologize but why, she wasn't exactly sure. "I'm sorry, I guess I just figured that since you and Artie have been friends for such a long time, you'd have all these age old traditions to celebrate."

"Actually, we haven't really been friends all that long either," Tina admitted shyly, picking at the hem of her gloves. She didn't bother to look up as she explained. "We met about a year and a half ago, the summer before my Freshman year. It was at orientation and Artie was part of Sophomore student services." Tina let out a small giggle. "Poor thing got stuck escorting a group with me, Mercedes, Kurt and about five other kids around the school. Well, the four of us hit it off right away and we were able to talk Artie into ditching the others during the break. We hung out at the park instead. In fact, we pretty much spent the rest of the summer together at that park---and have been best friends ever since."

The smile that she wore while Tina was speaking had faded, and a pang of guilt hit her hard. Why hadn't she ever made an effort to be Artie's friend before now?

Quinn knew she had a vague awareness of Artie Abrams from very early on in life---preschool, if her memory was correct. Of course, she'd never really put a face to the name until the third grade, when he returned to school two months after everyone else, and in a wheelchair. But third grade was also the year that young girls from the elementary schools in the area could try out for Lima's junior cheer squad. Only twenty girls would make it and Quinn was one of them. Nothing else seemed to matter after that.

Yet here she was eight years later, no longer a cheerleader, but pregnant and living with Artie and his family. Life had certainly come full circle.

"I actually called to see if Artie could help me with my homework." The sound of Tina's voice startled Quinn from her reverie. "But Abbey answered the phone and begged me to come over to join in the festivities. Really, how could I say no to that invitation?"

"Homework, which class?," Quinn asked, still somewhat distracted.

"AP Geometry with Ms. Riley. I'm totally lost," Tina answered with a drawn out sigh. "Artie had her last year."

"So did I," she recalled, "I was in Artie's class." There was a pause at the realization that her and Artie had actually shared a great many classes throughout the years, with this year having the most together. "I can help if you want," Quinn offered a bit timidly.

Tina was taken aback, but smiled and accepted.

Homework took no time at all and Tina was surprised at how easily she mastered the concept once Quinn explained it. That in itself, made her wonder what in the world attracted someone like Quinn Fabray, to the likes of Finn Hudson and Noah Puckerman. But before she could theorize, Abbey returned to the room freshly washed and donning a set of candy cane flecked pajamas. "Look what I found," she announced carrying in a large ornament box. "Mom's still looking for the garland."

"I think I saw it in here," Quinn stated as she sprang from her seat and moved to the box of decorations she was previously sorting through.

"Mom, Quinn found the garland," Abbey shouted just as her mother was walking into the room.

"Thank you Sweetie," Mrs. Abrams replied, giving her daughter a pointed look as she playfully rubbed her ear. "I figured it had to be up here somewhere since this is the last one," she added, placing her box on the coffee table, next to the others. Abbey eagerly ripped open the first lid, but before she could get to the second, her mother gently reminded her, "Wait for your brothers."

Abbey's shoulders slumped and her lips twisted into a disappointed frown. Struck with how that little expression was so completely Artie, Quinn couldn't help but smile. Tina's attention, however, had been seized by something else. "Oh my God---is that Artie?" she squealed, picking the handmade ornament from the top of the box.

Mrs. Abrams untangled herself from the lights she was checking, looked up and nodded. "You can always tell by the glasses," she said smiling.

"And the eyes," Abbey boasted proudly. "Artie's are blue like mine and Mommy's, and Andy's are hazel like Daddy's."

There was something familiar to Quinn about that craft. "That was from first grade right?", she directed the question to Mrs. Abrams. "I think I have one just like it."

"You should," Alicia playfully replied. "You and Artie were in the same class that year."

Tina passed the framed photo over to Quinn. She studied it carefully. She hadn't seen her own since she made it ten years ago. "My Mom always packed away all of our art projects as soon as we brought them home. She didn't want them to get ruined." In reality though, Quinn knew it was because her mother didn't want her children's imperfections on display in her picture-perfect home.

"Even the holiday ones?" Mrs. Abrams queried and Quinn nodded. _How sad_, Alicia thought. She still put everything out, from construction paper Valentine hearts made in preschool, to tissue paper ghosts and Popsicle stick ornaments.

"I don't think my mom ever kept anything I made," Tina disclosed with a slight chuckle and an indifferent shrug. "She's a bit of a minimalist."

"So you don't decorate like this for Christmas?" Quinn asked curiously.

"We don't decorate at all," Tina laughed. "In fact, we really don't celebrate at all. My parents are minimalists in every aspect of life, including religion. Especially religion. So I get presents whenever they feel like it. There doesn't necessarily have to be a holiday attached to the date."

Quinn let out a disappointed sigh. "Oh."

Tina saw her arms instinctively wrap around her belly and knew exactly what she was thinking. "Quinn, just because my Jewish mother and Protestant father aren't willing to embrace their united faiths doesn't mean all families are like that." There was a pause as Tina scanned the Abrams family room and smiled. "Just ask Artie what it's like, he'd know better than me."

"Artie'd know what?"

Quinn spun in the direction of the voice, to find the young man in question coasting to a stop right behind her, dressed much like he had the two previous nights. "You're Jewish?" she asked skeptically.

Artie let out a laugh and nodded. "Yep, one whole quarter," he replied proudly, glancing over at his mother as he did so. Quinn followed his gaze and her expression became even more puzzled as her eyes landed on the glimmering gold crucifix hanging from Mrs. Abrams neck. "My Dad's side," Artie clarified.

Quinn turned to face him, a perplexed look still on her face. "But Abrams is---."

"Dutch," Artie finished for her, "And Catholic and my grandfathers name. My grandmothers maiden name is Ushkowitz."

Quinn still looked a little confused, but then again, so did Artie. "Is that okay?" he asked apprehensively.

"Of course it is. I'm just surprised that's all," Quinn's insistent reply was followed by a few moments of thoughtful contemplation, as well as another pat to her baby bump. "Artie, how did your grandparents decide on which religion to raise your dad?," she inquired softly.

"They didn't have to," Artie answered easily. "They raised him and my aunt with both religions."

"You can do that?" Quinn asked, hoping she didn't sound as dumb as she felt.

"Well my grandparents did and I think my Dad came out okay," Artie joked.

"Better than okay," Quinn agreed.

Artie smiled back at her. As he did so, he noticed his father peek into the room. "Hey Dad," he called. "Quinn wants to know what it was like to grow up in half Jewish, half Catholic household."

"It was great." Mr. Abrams reply was natural, easy. "Even before my older sister and I were born, our parents agreed that their children would all be Baptised, I had a Bris too, and make our first Communions. Then we got to decide if we wanted to make our Bat/Bar Mitzvahs or Confirmations. Jane and I chose to do both." He paused only to smile. "We were lucky. We got to learn the teachings of two amazing faiths, we were able to combine our blended families and celebrate all the holidays together, and we had a really lenient mother who let us eat bacon cheeseburgers anytime we wanted to---except Fridays during lent, of course."

Quinn joined in the laughter. It all sounded so simple and really great, but Artie's grandparents were older and married at the time_. _How was something like this supposed to work between her and Puck? Quinn quickly shook those thoughts from her head, when another instantly passed through. "Mr. Abrams---what's a Bris?"

Art let out a soft chuckle. "Just be happy your baby's a girl," he teased lightly, then remembered why he'd come inside in the first place. "Tina. Your dad's waiting for you."

Tina nodded and moved to collect her belongings. "But what about homework?" Artie implored.

"Quinn already helped me with it," Tina answered, flashing the blond an appreciative smile.

"Oh, okay," Artie conceded, giving a curious glance upwards.

"Thanks for having me Mrs. A."

"Anytime Tina."

"By guys," Tina acknowledged Artie and Quinn this time. "See you Monday."

"By Tee."

Artie may have called out to Tina, but he was still staring up at Quinn---trying to decipher the meaning behind the smirk she was giving him.

Quinn moved her free hand from her stomach and placed it on her hip. "Well aren't you and your family just full of surprises Artie Abrams," she said teasingly.

Artie willingly played along. "I could say the same for you Miss Fabray." But his quip caused her to wrinkle her face in confusion. "I never would have pegged you as someone who'd care to remember any of Riley's excruciating lessons---especially the chapter on vectors and translations."

"How could I not?" Quinn countered playfully. "She practically beat it into us."

That made Artie laugh. Who knew Quinn Fabray could have such a witty sense of humor. He flashed her another friendly grin, that same shy, excited one that Quinn found utterly adorable. They held each others gaze for a few seconds until Mrs. Abrams announced, "I think it's time for the ornaments."

Quinn was the first to volunteer, handing Mrs. Abrams the homemade ornament she was still clutching. It was hung front and center, eliciting a groan from Artie. "Aw Mom---c'mon."

Alicia scoffed. "What? It's my favorite, tied with snowman you made in fourth grade."

Artie playfully rolled his eyes at his mother before leaning back over the box. "My booty," he exclaimed a minute later.

The misinterpretation made Quinn burst out into a fit of giggles. "Excuse me?" she gasped, glancing over her shoulder at Artie.

There, dangling from his finger, was a delicate porcelain baby boot suspended by a simple satin ribbon. Quinn composed herself enough to admire the small treasure. 'Baby's First Christmas 1993' was etched in baby blue on top, while 'Arthur John' ran across the toe of the shoe, flanked on either side by his birthday May 19th and his weight and height on the right. Quinn blinked back the tears that suddenly sprang to her eyes.

"I've got one too," Abbey chirped holding up her pink accented boot. "And so does Andy. They're all matching."

Mrs. Abrams came to stand between he daughter and Quinn. "I was just lucky the company was still in business by the time Abbey came around," she replied, smiling. Alicia put her arm around Quinn's shoulder and whispered, "Next year, you'll be able to put something like this up on your own tree."

Quinn looked down at the trinket Artie had laid in her palm and flashed a watery smile. She sniffed back her emotion enough to comment, "Wow Artie you were a pretty big baby."

"He most certainly was," Mrs. Abrams quipped as she moved to place a kiss on the top of her oldest sons head. Artie blushed and Quinn couldn't decide if it was because of what his mother said, or what she did. "But Andy was even bigger," Alicia added a moment later, playfully pinching her younger sons cheek, much to his chagrin, since the top of his head was no longer readily accessible to her anymore.

"And I still am," Andy spitefully boasted, with a pointed glance in Artie's direction.

Luckily, Abbey piped in before things could get ugly between the brothers. "I was the smallest," she confirmed enthusiastically.

"And at eight pounds, fourteen and a half ounces, that's saying quite a bit," Alicia retorted.

The mood lightened and they quickly got to work filling the rest of the branches. "Where's the angel?," Abbey asked once she took a step back to admire their work. Art retrieved the topper from a box behind him and handed it to his little girl. "It's my turn this year, right?" she implored.

"No, it was your turn last year," Andy rebutted. "It's Artie's turn."

"Which means it_ is_ my turn again," Abbey argued. She always got Artie's turn anyway.

Artie smiled and waved his little sister over. He whispered something into her ear which made her face light up. Abbey turned around and held the angel out to Quinn. "Artie and I want you to do it."

Quinn blushed as she took the figure from Abbey and returned Artie's smile. "I'll get the step ladder from outside," Art offered, but Artie's voice stopped him.

"Wait Dad, I think we can do this," Artie proposed, glancing from his chair, to Quinn, to the tree and back. "Quinn's a cheerleader, she used to standing on the top of a pyramid---this can't be much different."

Quinn nodded, accepting his invitation. They were going to attempt the same stunt they used in the number with April Rhodes. She only hoped she wasn't so heavy she's accidentally tip Artie over. Quinn watched as he moved into place and locked his brakes, then waited for Mr. Abrams and Andy to help her up onto the armrests.

Quinn could feel the warmth of Artie's hands on her skin as he steadied her. She took the angel back from Mrs. Abrams and carefully placed it on the top branch. Mission complete, she glanced over her shoulder at Artie, who was beaming up at her, just as brightly as the tree.

**_ANx2---I'm sorry if this chapter comes off as a little sappy or cheesy, but that has a tendency to happen when one writes about the holidays. I'm also worried that this story might seem to be progressing rather slowly, it is I suppose, but I feel I have to build on the characters first, before I can expand on the story lines. So please be patient, there's a lot more to come._**

**_ANX3---I almost forgot. I'm really not sure about the Gleeverse ages/grades, so I've decided to split them up 50/50(or6/6). Juniors are Puck, Finn, Artie(because in my last story, I made his b-day in May), Quinn, Santana and Matt, while Sophomores are Tina, Kurt(yes, even though he was driving early in the school year he still has such a baby face so I gave him a September birthday), Mercedes, Rachel, Mike and Brittany. _**

**_Disclaimerx2---Just borrowing the name. Thanks Jenna!_**


	5. Chapter 5

_**An authors note---I am so pleased that you guys liked the last chapter. And it was quite an honor to get the largest response as of yet in the amount of hits as well as such amazing reviews. Thank you all. This chapter is way shorter than the last few, and I'm sorry about that, but the subject matter in this one didn't exactly flow very well into the next one, so I split them---plus, I really like how the ending turned out. Possible upside? My next update should come a bit quicker.**_

**_Disclaimer---Glee is the property of FOX, the creators and the writers. _**

**_Lean on Me_**

Quinn couldn't remember if she'd ever had that much fun in one weekend. There was laughing, singing, storytelling, decorating, baking, and in two short days the Abrams house was transformed into a winter wonderland---both inside and out, thanks to the seven inches of snow that fell throughout the day on Sunday.

When Monday finally rolled around, neither Quinn or Artie wanted to leave the comforts of home. Artie because it was difficult and messy trying to maneuver in the snow, and Quinn because school meant she'd have to interact with Puck and Finn all while dealing with the lingering awkwardness that still hung between the three of them.

Quinn briefly considered feigning morning sickness to stay home, or just downright ditching---but a soft knock on her door, or rather, the question that followed, changed her mind. Abbey's sweet little voice called out from behind the barrier with the strange inquiry. "Quinn, what color were you thinking about wearing today?" The blond slipped out of the warm bed and swung open the door, regarding the precocious child with her own quizzical response of "Why?". The answer? Artie was curious, they were re-pairing as dance partners today and he didn't want their outfits to clash.

Quinn laughed. The only saving grace in her life right now, was knowing that Artie Abrams had her back in just about every way.

School itself turned out to be surprisingly tolerable, with the only noticeable tension erupting at the end of glee rehearsal after Finn found out a short section of the choreography for one of the holiday show numbers, would have him paired up with Quinn.

And there Artie was to the rescue---again.

Quinn stood nearby and waited as he gathered up his things, her gaze stuck somewhere over her shoulder.

Artie's phone buzzed and he paused to look at the incoming text. "Dad's stuck at the office. Mom's on her way, but it'll be a bit, traffic's bad because of the weather," he read aloud, then lifted his head to look up at her.

Quinn glanced back, and their eyes met briefly. "That's fine, I don't mind. We can wait in here where it's warm," she replied, forcing a small smile as she moved to settle herself in the chair next to him.

Artie could tell she was upset, but chose not to press the issue. That turned out to be a wise decision because only a few minutes later, Finn was passing by them. "See ya Artie," he called out, completely ignoring Quinn.

Artie managed a quick reply. "Later Finn."

Quinn caught the compassionate look Artie was giving her after she had turned back from watching Finn follow the others out of the room. She knew he meant well, but she despised sympathy. She sighed heavily. "I really wish he'd stop hating me."

"He doesn't hate you Quinn," Artie countered.

"No?" she asked incredulously, jerking her thumb in the direction of the doorway. "Then what do you call that?"

Artie shrugged. "I don't know, maybe he still has feelings for you," he stated, his tone tender, his expression contemplative.

"Oh, he has feelings for me all right," Quinn spat bitterly, "feelings like disgust, anger, betrayal---."

"That's just because he was hurt Quinn," Artie reasoned. "Give him some time, he'll come around eventually."

Quinn let out another heavy sigh. "And if he doesn't?" she whispered, her gaze drifting down. "It's already been over a month."

"He will. It may not be tomorrow, but he will," Artie replied insistently. Surprised, Quinn looked up at him. "I did," he added, grinning timidly as he nervously picked at his gloves. "And if I could forgive Tina, then Finn can definitely forgive you."

"That's totally different Artie," Quinn scoffed, shaking her head. "The lie I told was way far worse than the one Tina told."

"Not really." Artie's casual contradiction may have caused the blond to gape at him like he'd sprouted a third eye, but he pressed on anyway. "I mean sure, the situations might have been different, but the reasons were the same. You both told those lies to protect yourselves from getting hurt. Only you had a lot more at stake Quinn." He offered another apprehensive smile as he looked from her rounded abdomen, back up to her eyes. "You were protecting your baby too---and it's every mothers greatest instinct, to protect her child."

Even though Quinn's eyes immediately watered at Artie's words, she was able to hold on to her composure. "And you know this how?" she quipped.

"Have you not met my mother?" he countered with his own teasing question.

"Yes I have," Quinn chuckled, "and she's amazing."

Artie couldn't agree more and his wide grin and enthusiastic nod, proved it. "While it aggravates me how over protective she gets with me sometimes---I totally understand." He paused and blushed intensely. "And I love her so much for it." His sparkling blue eyes lifted slightly. "Just like your baby will love you for it too."

The pooling tears escaped down her cheeks, but she didn't care to brush them away. Artie's words had hit a nerve. Would her baby love her? Quinn wasn't even sure she'd have the means to keep the baby. But would her daughter understand her reasons, if she did choose to give her up? Or would she end up resenting the teenage mother that choose to keep her? Would her little girl ever realize, that no matter what the outcome, her mother always did her best to protect her?

"I'm not so sure about that either," Quinn's shaky voice rang out in disagreement.

"I am," Artie maintained, ever certain. "Just like I'm sure Finn will forgive you someday."

Quinn felt her lips quirk up slightly as she took a moment to study Artie. Eyes cast down, hands fiddling nervously in his lap, lips pursed into a sheepish twist. That's how it was with him, one bold step forward and two bashful steps back---but always honest. "Artie, what made you forgive Tina?"

He glanced sideways, his expression still apprehensive and shrugged, "She's my friend." Artie could tell immediately by the look on Quinn's face, that too simple of and answer was not going to suffice, but he wasn't sure how to continue. "I never had a lot of friends growing up, and even less after the accident," he admitted, a self-conscious blush coloring his cheeks.

"But you have a lot now," she cut in with pointed raise of her eye brow.

"They're more like acquaintances," he countered diffidently. "I mean sure, with jazz band, the debate team and glee club, I have a lot of people who don't mind hanging around me at school---but Tina, Kurt and Mercedes were the first ones who actually didn't mind being seen with me outside of school---I guess didn't want to loose that."

He cringed as soon as the words left his mouth. "Wait. That came off sounding kinda selfish, huh?" Quinn gave an indecisive looking shrug that Artie regarded as confirmation; but in reality, it was a slight expression of sympathy. He took steadying breath before proceeding. "It's really not like that at all, it's just--- after she told me, I remember feeling so confused. I couldn't understand how she could do that, purposely make up a speech impediment just to get out of talking in class. Or why she'd want to push people away like that. And that made me really angry."

Quinn felt her stomach flop and her throat seize as she pictured young little Artie sitting alone on the playground during recess, with nobody to play with. Fresh tears sprung to her eyes when the realization that may have been an actual memory, hit her.

"I guess I felt that after all these years, she could just stop stuttering at anytime and be 'normal' again---and that wasn't fair. I've never been a jealous person, but for some reason, that really got to me."

Artie hesitated for a moment and Quinn took that time to swallow the lump that had formed in her throat. "I knew it was wrong to feel that way, and it only took me a few days to I realize that I wasn't actually mad, just upset. Sure, I was pissed that she'd lied, but I was probably more disappointed by the fact that the connection and understanding I thought we had, wasn't really there." He paused again, but kept his gaze on his clasped hands. "And that got me to thinking, even though we didn't have a disability in common any more, or at all for that matter---Tina _still _wanted to be my friend. I couldn't just turn my back on that."

Quinn flashed him watery smile. "You make it all sound so easy."

"It is easy. She made a mistake and I forgave her. Simple as that." Artie's matter of fact answers did nothing to ease the skepticism building inside of Quinn. It was written all over her puffy face and red rimmed eyes. He nudged her elbow with his, "Friendship isn't something that should ever be taken for granted," and declared unwaveringly, with a hint of playfulness in the smirk that was forming. "And if Finn Hudson can't see that, then he's an idiot," Artie let out a small chuckle, before adding, "even if he did save me from from a port-a-potty ride down a hill, a couple of slushy facials, and a few backpacks to the head."

"Thanks Artie," she whispered softly.

Artie maintained his grin as he nodded, but turned serious. "I would never turn my back on any of my friends Quinn."

That was the honest truth, and she knew it. Not only was he able to make amends with Tina after stutter-gate, but he was also able to see past Quinn's own indiscretions and be a true friend to her. Without warning, Quinn wrapped her arms around him, clinging tightly as she softly sobbed into his shoulder. "I'm sorry I haven't been a better friend to you Artie," she confessed once they were finally able to break apart.

Artie wasn't quite sure what Quinn meant by that, but before he could respond, she sniffled back her emotions and quickly amended, "I haven't been much of a friend to you at all." After letting out a shaky sigh, Quinn hesitantly lifted her eyes to meet Artie's. "All the times you were slushied, teased or tormented---."

"You never took part in any of that," he pointed out, trying to ease her misguided remorse.

If he only knew how deep that remorse ran. "But I never tried to stop it either."

"Quinn?" he called pleadingly. She was crying now. "It's okay."

"No it's not Artie. I mean, I've pretty much ignored you for the past ten years."

Quinn was surprised to find that her confession to Artie had not evoked the response she was expecting. Instead of that forgiving expression of empathy he was so good at giving, she found herself face to face with a coy smile and gleaming eyes. "The day I came back to school, after the accident," he paused and briefly glanced down. "All the kids were either avoiding me, or gawking and whispering---you were the only one who actually smiled at me."

Quinn's jaw fell open as all the air rushed from her lungs. "I'm sorry Artie, I don't remem---."

"That's okay," he cut in sweetly. "I do---and it's not something I'll ever forget."

Quinn couldn't believe that a simple little action like that, one she hadn't even remembered making, could mean so much. She felt herself getting choked up again, but her eyes had run dry minutes ago. Without the ability to form the words to convey what she was feeling, Quinn wrapped her arms around him again in a giant hug.

"Oh good. I thought you two might still be in here." Mr. Shuester's voice echoed from outside the doorway. Both kids immediately pulled away and looked up at their teacher. He was obviously headed for home, his coat and hat already covered in a fine dusting of snow. "Artie, your mom's waiting outside for you."

"Thanks Mr. Shue," Artie replied, trying to conceal his blush as he worked his arms into the sleeves of his jacket. Quinn was as well.

"See you guys tomorrow," Will called out as he turned to leave.

"Bye Mr. Shuester, Quinn added with a small wave.

Once alone, Artie held out his hand expectantly. Quinn smiled and nodded as she gave her messenger bag to him. She waited for him to return the gesture and when he did, she stepped behind him and took hold of the handles on his chair.

That night in bed, after an early snack of corn chips and peanut butter, Quinn dreamed of being back in the third grade. It started out sad like that daydream from earlier in the day, with a young Artie sitting alone on the playground, but ended with Quinn walking up to him---and Artie smiling back at her.


	6. Chapter 6

_**An authors note---You guys are as fabulous as ever, and I can't thank you enough for the growing response to this story. Because of this, I must ask you to please bear with me for just this one, very long, building chapter before we can move on past this first week or so of co-habitation. I did try my hardest to get this chapter up in a timely fashion, but as you can see, I failed miserably. I apologize for that. A few **_**_minor tributes to Kevin into this one (I've gone ahead and given Artie some of Kevin's delightful qualities. You can see the rest on the Fox website---10 things you didn't know about Kevin McHale) It's super adorable---just like him!_**

**_Disclaimer---Glee is the property of FOX, the creators and the writers. _**

**_Lean on Me_**

Days went by. Finn was no closer to forgiving her, Puck was still acting like a complete jackass, and Santana was gloating in her queen-bee status after being promoted to head cheerleader, but Quinn could care less. She had all the friendship she needed in the Abrams family.

Another Sunday was upon them, and the clan would finally get the chance to gather around the table for breakfast together, much like they did every evening for supper---all six of them. Any given Saturday, Artie was out of the house well before breakfast, as was true for this past one as well. And last Sunday morning found the entire household scrambling to make it to church on time after over sleeping on account of staying up extra late to finish their holiday decorating.

The weekdays proved to be no better, with everyone waking up a different times because of their varying schedules. This meant they would all have to take turns eating the most important meal of the day, not together as a unit. Usually Art and Alicia were the earliest to rise, they were almost always followed by bright-eyed and cheerful Artie and Abbey. Ironically Andy and Quinn, who had to leave the house with Artie and Mr. Abrams by the absolute latest, 7:15---were the last to lazily roll out of their respective beds.

It was not that their current workday routine of eating breakfast in shifts was a problem per se, but it did tend to make the gratification of this rare family morning together, that much greater.

On the menu today was fluffy scrambled eggs, sausage links and hashbrown casserole, with fresh fruit and toast on the side. Quinn felt like she'd died and gone to heaven, or at least the Lima Cafe in the heart of town. Her parents idea of a balanced breakfast was either a small bowl of yogurt with granola or reduced fat cottage cheese, generally washed down with a strong Mimosa or stiff Bloody Mary, respectively.

"This looks wonderful Mrs. Abrams," Quinn inhaled deeply as she took her place at the table, more than thankful her days of morning sickness were nearly behind her. "And smells even better."

Alicia looked up from her place behind the kitchen island and smiled. "Well help yourself Quinn, there's plenty," she replied graciously. The young blond nodded appreciatively and began plating.

"Orange juice or milk Abbey?" Mr. Abrams asked his daughter as he walked over to the table, armed with a gallon of each.

"Milk please," she answered holding out her glass. Art nodded, passing the gallon of orange juice to an awaiting Artie, who promptly filled his glass to the rim then offered it to the person seated next to him.

"No thanks," Quinn declined politely,"I'll take the milk." There was a short pause as she looked to her left. "And some of that please," she added, motioning to the shorter juice glass of scarlet liquid Alicia had just placed on the table.

"You like cranberry juice?" Artie asked incredulously. Quinn's nod only furthered his wince of displeasure. "Here then," he said, pushing the glass toward her, "you can have mine."

"No she can't," Alicia countered, smirking pointedly at her son as she slid it back in front of him. "She can have her own."

Quinn wasn't quite sure what to make of the curious exchange between mother and son. The frown of disappointment from Artie that followed, was a little perplexing too. Not wanting to seem ungrateful, Quinn reached for his glass a second time. "Thanks Artie, I---," but her words trailed softly when she noticed Alicia reaching into a cabinet. "That's okay Mrs. Abrams, I can just---."

"He has to drink it." This time Quinn's words were cut off by Abbey's frank remark. The little girl slowly looked up from her plate, her big blue eyes scanning between her brother and the pretty blond next to him.

Artie visibly tensed. He wasn't mad at Abbey for her bluntness, just bracing himself for the embarrassment that he was afraid would follow. One of his family members was bound to feel the need to explain why urinary tract health was of the utmost importance for him. As if on cue, a devious smirk spread across Andy's lips. He opened his mouth to speak, but Quinn, sensing Artie's obvious discomfort, even if she wasn't aware of the reason, beat him to it.

"My doctor says it just about the healthiest juice to drink, full of vitamins, minerals, even antioxidants," she announced casually, smiling as she accepted the glass Mrs. Abrams was offering her. "And I'll drink anything that's good for the baby." To her left, Quinn heard Artie let out a soft noise that sounded suspiciously like a sigh of relief. She looked over at him with a lively sparkle in her eyes. "It's not the most appealing thing to drink, I know---but I do have a trick that makes it a little more fun."

With that, she rose from her seat, grabbed both glasses, and walked over to the refrigerator. After a sprinkle of crushed ice and a splash of club soda, careful not to dilute the concoction too much, Quinn stood back to admire her work. A variation of her parents famous preparation, they of course used cubed ice and vodka, but safe for two teenagers and a growing fetus.

"It's like a cranberry slushy," Quinn giggled as she handed the glass back to Artie.

He raised a skeptical brow as he took a sip, and was pleasantly surprised "Not bad," he quipped. "Not as good as my usual, of course," and motioned to his already half empty glass of orange juice. "But much better than taking a slushy to the face." Quinn's soft laughter was overshadowed by Mrs. Abrams gasp of concern. "Or so I've heard," Artie quickly amended, eyeing his mother a bit cautiously, "from um Rachel, that is."

Quinn's eyes shot to Artie, an expression of amusement fast spreading over both of their faces. They tried to hold back, but by the time they were finally able to return their attention back to the meal, both were laughing too uncontrollably to eat.

Thankfully, mass proved to have a much more subdued effect on them than breakfast did. Sitting near the end of the pew with Abbey, Mr. Abrams, and Andy, Quinn had a clear view of Artie and his mother seated with the choir. She spent most of the service studying the interaction between mother and son. There wasn't much in the way of actual communication, but the subtle exchanges that did take place spoke volumes. The encouraging glances, soft smiles, and a gentle hand laid upon Artie's shoulder were sweet gestures, but paled in comparison to the proud look on Mrs. Abrams face as she watched her son sing.

Likewise, Artie had spent the better part of the same service watching the interaction between his little sister and Quinn. She couldn't help noticing early on that his gaze was sort of lingering on them. How his smile widened every time he caught Abbey whispering something into her ear. The way he seemed to focus on the two of them during the songs, watching happily as they shared a hymnal and sang along. Quinn wasn't sure what the reason behind the seesaw game of you-looking-at-me-looking-at-you was---until they all met up after the service and smiling hopefully, Artie suggested that Quinn join the two of them for choir rehearsal later in the week.

Smiling herself, she graciously accepted.

During the downtime of the afternoon, Quinn found herself in a bit of a predicament. She was currently home alone with Abbey and Andy, but keeping an eye on them was not her biggest problem. "Abbey, I don't think this is such a good idea," she protested, stopping in the middle of the hallway.

"Why not?" the little girl asked incredulously as she continued on her way.

"Because," Quinn paused, following reluctantly. She glanced at the doorway of the room in question. "I just don't think we should be in here."

"I'm in here all the time," Abbey countered, persistence abounding as the child impatiently waved the teenager on. "It's fine Quinn. Really. C'mon." It wasn't as though Quinn had never 'seen' the inside of this particular room. She may have, on the occasion that the door was actually open---which was a rarity, peeked in as she passed it on her way to the laundry or powder room. But she had never been formally invited to enter. Until now. And not even by the rooms sole occupant.

"Abbey, I don't know," Quinn hesitated, but took a tentative step in anyway. "Why don't we just call Artie and ask him where it is?"

The little girl just shook her head. "Artie's busy getting his guitars re-stringed. There's no way he's gonna answer his phone."

Quinn couldn't help but smile at Abbey's slight grammatical slip, but had to insist, "Then why don't we just wait for him to get home."

Abbey halted her search from underneath Artie's bed and sprang up. "Because Amber told me a really important secret when she called and I hafta write it down before I forget. But Artie's at the music store. And Artie at the music store is a hundred times worse than taking Andy to a sports store or me to a toy store. Artie can spend hours and hours at the music store and I need to find _it_ now." It all came out like a garbled mess of frustration, and Quinn could do nothing more than figuratively throw her hands up and declare a surrender to one very determined seven year old.

Quinn started along the far wall, closest to the doorway. "It wouldn't be in the bookcase, too easy," Abbey's muffled voice rang out from somewhere near the bed. "That would probably be the first place Andy'd look. You can help me with the desk." The suggestion much more like an order, and it caused Quinn to glance over her shoulder at the wide-eyed youngster now right behind her. "Please?" she squeaked in apologetically.

As if being in Artie's bedroom without his knowledge wasn't awkward enough, Quinn was now being asked to rummage through his desk---by, of all people, his baby sister. She took in a steading breath and followed Abbey's lead.

Undeniably a custom job, the desk itself wasn't particularly large, but did match in both style and finish to the bookcase and shelving unit it sat within. There was no chair, for obvious reasons, in the space allotted, or anywhere else in the room. Artie's computer sat atop it, as did a textbook and two notebooks. Pencils, pens, lamp---all the necessary equipment you'd find on a desktop. The upper left drawer, Quinn soon found out, held only the basics as well, while the lower one contained items not usually found in a teenage boys bedroom.

Quinn let out a loud snort of laughter. "Did you find it?" Abbey asked excitedly, from her side of the desk.

"Not exactly," Quinn replied, chuckling as she lifted her hands up to reveal a Barbie doll in one and a yellow plastic pony with orange hair, in the other.

Abbey blushed slightly. "Oh yeah, those are mine," she answered with her own silly giggle. "I leave some of my things here so I have something to play with when I hang out with Artie."

"Do you hang out with Artie a lot?" Quinn asked playfully, as she returned the toys to their respective drawer.

"I try to, but we're both really busy." Abbey's answer sounded so grown up, but her smile was childlike and bright when she added, "He's my best friend." Quinn sat back on her knees, gaping. With a mix of emotion welling up inside of her, she found herself unsure of weather to laugh or cry. That was probably the single most sweetest thing she'd ever heard. "Hey Quinn, let's go check the closet?" Abbey called out, seemingly unaware of the effect her words had on the pregnant blond.

Quinn looked up to find Abbey standing in front of the open closet, the louver doors pushed neatly to the side. "You can start up there and I'll look down here," was youngsters 'suggestion'.

Quinn disregarded the request entirely as she quickly scanned the contents on display in front of her---noting again the custom design with the low racks, strategically placed cubicles, and easy to reach drawers---before she finally let her eyes drift up to the top shelf which was lined with meticulously folded bedding and neatly stacked boxes. Quinn giggled softly, "Abbey, I really don't think it would be up there."

Abbey twisted her head to the side and frowned. "Why not?"

"Well, for one thing you and Artie are just about the same height," Quinn pointed out, smiling. Abbey was the one person in the house almost always eye level with Artie, no matter if she was sitting or standing. "So if you're not able to reach something, he probably couldn't either. Even I would have a hard time reaching up there."

"But he could reach if he was standing," Abbey countered nonchalantly, sizing up Quinn. She nodded satisfactorily. "Artie's taller than you."

"I'm sure he is Abbey," Quinn acknowledged, her voice taking on a sympathetic tone. "But that still doesn't change the fact that he can't actually stand."

"Sure he can," Abbey said insistently before returning to the closet floor.

Quinn just stood there, too stunned and confused to argue. So deep in thought, she didn't hear the approaching sound on harwood. "Uh hey Quinn?" Artie's voice rang out, causing Quinn to spin around and clutch her chest.

"Artie, you're home."

"And you're in my room." It wasn't an accusation, just an observation.

"Yeah, um about that," Quinn was fumbling through her explanation when Abbey magically popped up beside her. Artie seemed much less surprised to see Abbey crawl out from the inside of his closet than he was to see Quinn standing in front of it.

"I'm so glad you're back," Abbey exclaimed with a dramatic sigh. "I thought you were gonna be at the music store all day."

"Mom and Dad needed to get home to take Andy to his basketball practice and I figured I'd have more fun here, than at the store for another two hours," he explained as he finally wheeled past the threshold. "But it looks like you started the party without me."

"I'm sorry Artie," Quinn offered apologetically. "Abbey was looking for something and she asked me to help."

"It's okay," Artie replied indifferently as he headed to the spot in front of the window. He moved to return his newly re-strung, freshly polished acoustic to it's stand, before working his electric from it's case. When finished with his guitars, Artie pushed off for his bed and stuck his hand between the mattresses. "Is this what you were looking for?"

"My diary!," Abbey squealed, crawling over Artie's bed to reach him and her prized possession. She threw her arms around his neck and squeezed. "How did you know?" she asked in awe.

"I'm pretty sure it's the only thing you've ever asked me to hide in my room for you," he returned pointedly. Abbey gave him a sweet innocent little shrug that Artie couldn't help but smile at. "But I don't understand why you didn't just call me to ask me where it was?"

"I thought you'd be too busy to answer," Abbey admitted timidly. "And I didn't want you to get mad at me for bothering you."

Like he'd ever get mad at her. "So you decided to ransack my closet instead?" Artie quipped, chuckling.

"And your desk," Abbey contributed playfully. "But we didn't go in there." She made it a point to mention this to her brother as she motioned over her shoulder with her thumb. Abbey then looked up at Quinn to clarify, "Artie doesn't like when people go in his bathroom."

A flush of color crept up Artie's neck and he shifted uncomfortably. He looked up at Quinn and shrugged apologetically, "It's um---just a little clinical in there."

Quinn responded with an accepting smile. "I'm really sorry Artie," she tried apologizing again. "I should have made her call you or wait---"

Artie's hearty laugh cut her off. "Nobody _can_ make Abbey do anything," he stated jokingly. "Besides, my closet is her favorite hide-out. There's this empty space off to the side where I can't reach, that she always plays in. I'm not surprised she thought I hid her diary back there." He let out another chuckle, "Although I'm not sure how she thought I'd get back there to hide it."

"Well I'm pretty sure she thinks you're Superman, because she also wanted me to search the top shelf," Quinn disclosed lightheartedly. "She has this wild notion that you can magically stand up and reach it."

Artie's expression turned somber and for a moment, Quinn thought she'd said something wrong. "This reality is kind of a hard concept to grasp and sometimes I wonder if she really gets it---but she is right about that." Left standing agape, Quinn watched as Artie crossed back over to the other side of his room and pulled the door away from the wall a little to reveal what looked to be a pair of metal leg braces and a matching set of forearm crutches. "It's definitely not magic. I can only manage with the support of some pretty heavy-duty equipment and the expending of an exorbitant amount of energy," he confessed frankly. "But yeah, I can stand up for a small amount of time."

"She didn't believe me Artie," Abbey innocently tattled from her place comfortably sprawled out on his bed. "You should show her."

Quinn watched as Artie dropped his gaze to his lap, in a way that resembled extreme self-consciousness. "I would like that," she stated in a similarly timid fashion. He quickly glanced up to find Quinn smiling back at him. "But only if you want to."

Artie briefly considered taking the out. He'd been greatly restricted for a few weeks now, sidelined by a pressure sore near the knee hinge of his braces. Plus, it wasn't like being propped up vertical was really that big of a deal, at least to him it wasn't. Just one more in a long line of physiotherapy exercises he needed to do to stay healthy. But to Quinn it seemed to mean so much more, if the way her face brightened with excitement was any indication. So instead, he agreed.

They were just about to reach the twenty minute mark of waiting for Artie, when Quinn inexplicably started pacing the kitchen. She wasn't sure what she had to nervous about, it wasn't like she had never seen Artie out of his chair. There were the few times at the dumpster, the patriotic wedgie incident, which she found completely deplorable by the way, and more recently, the commercial shoot. However, she was finding it rather odd that Artie---who had yet to feel comfortable enough around her to actually transfer from his chair in her presence, in his own house mind you---would be willing to strap on a ton of metal just to stand up in front of her.

But maybe that was the point, he'd be standing.

Quinn's thoughts were interrupted by Artie's return. Changed from his white dress shirt, navy chinos and matching blue knit sweater into a casual Beatles t-shirt, a pair of loose fitting track pants, and his athletic shoes, he looked much more like the average American teenage boy---save for the outline of the braces through his pants, the pair of crutches set on his lap, and the wheelchair of course.

Artie stopped a few feet from the kitchen island and Quinn, and set his brakes. "Do you need any help?," she said the first thing that came to her mind.

"No, I got it." Artie shook his head and let out a playful chuckle as bent over to remove his feet from the footrest of his chair. He lifted his eyes up and smirked, "Just don't let me fall."

And suddenly, Quinn was terrified.

Her fears, however, were for naught. With a practiced grace, Artie used his hands to arrange his feet properly on the floor, set and re-set the tip of his crutches to exactly where they needed to be, and scooted forward in his chair. Able to mask well the amount of strength and effort it actually took, a few seconds later, Artie Abrams was standing.

Quinn's eyes glistened and her chin trembled. She smiled at him. It was only a difference of about an inch or so, but Quinn couldn't help noticing. "You're so tall," she managed in a whisper.

"Told ya," Abbey teased as she proudly rushed to stand next to her brother.

Artie chuckled along with Quinn, even though her strong emotional reaction had him more than a bit perplexed. He always figured it was exciting for an outsider to see him stand, and he still got that rush every time he did it himself, although he knew that probably had more to do with circulatory changes than anything else---but he never figured on it bringing Quinn Fabray to tears. "This is so amazing Artie," she added a few beats later, her voice now clear and confident.

"I'm pretty lucky," he replied with a modest shrug. "My injury is lower, so I still have a decent amount of ab strength."

"Um, where exactly." The words were out of Quinn's mouth before she even realized she was speaking. She bit down nervously on her lip as she kept a curious eye on Artie.

"Right here," Abbey pointed, touching a spot just above her brothers hip.

Artie glanced down to where her hand was and shook his head, "A little higher." Abbey's fingers slowly moved up his side a few inches until she reached the cusp of sensation and Artie shuddered, "Right about there." Quinn was surprised once again. By the way Artie twisted, turned and moved during dance numbers, she was sure it would've been where Abbey started, if not even lower.

Not satisfied with Quinn's weak nod of acknowledgement, Abbey grabbed her hand. "There," she echoed, pressing Quinn's fingers next to hers. There was a moment of awkward silence that followed. Quinn could feel the warmth of his skin and the strength of his muscles under her fingertips. While Artie, lost to actual sensation in that area, could definitely feel the pressure of her touch.

"Hey. Look who's back up on his feet again," Mr. Abrams announced as he walked into the kitchen. Quickly, Quinn's hand fell to her side and Artie squared his shoulders. Art stepped to stand next to his son and measured. "Catching up to me Ace." His comment might have been stretching the truth a bit, or about four inches as the case may be, but it did manage to make Artie smile. "Alicia?," Art called out just as his wife came into view.

Mrs. Abrams took one look and immediately her eyes were shining as brightly as her smile. She shook her head and let out a small giggle, "Oh please Art. He's been taller than me for almost a year now." Artie locked eyes with his mother for a moment, and was impossible not to see the special bond that was so strong between the two of them.

Andy was the last to come in from the garage and Art quickly caught him by the arm. "Let's see," he stated, carefully gauging the height difference between his two sons. "Nope, Artie's still a few inches taller."

Andy shrugged indifferently and stepped around his father, to the fridge where he grabbed a can of soda and popped it open. He waited for their father to head back to the car before walking up to Artie. "Not for long," he sneered under his breath, discretely but purposely knocking into Artie's right crutch as he passed.

Quinn hadn't seen what caused Artie to loose his balance, just that he was suddenly pitching forward and to the right. Quicky, she moved in front of him, her hands on his shoulders, steadying him until he could right his crutch underneath him again. "Thanks," he said, the words coming out in a rushed sigh of relief.

Quinn returned the smile he was giving her. "I guess I didn't let you fall after all."

"Hey that rhymes," Abbey chimed in, and they laughed.

Artie was thankful for the distraction that was his little sister. I took the emphasis off his near tumble as well as his obvious lack of balance without the crutches. At the moment Abbey had Quinn otherwise occupied, so Artie had time to properly adjust.

The thump of each crutch tip hitting hardwood and the soft metallic pings that followed, telltale sounds that Artie had shifted his position caused Alicia to turn around. "Are you sure it's okay to be up on those with that pressure sore still healing?," she asked, concern lacing her voice.

"It's fine," Artie offered gently. "Mark said he was probably gonna start me back sometime next week, anyway."

Alicia would have preferred they'd get the doctors okay before returning to this particular exercise, but trusted both Artie's and his therapist's judgement enough to make that decision. "You made sure to cover it properly?"

"Yes Mom," he answered. His tone playful, with just a hint of mock annoyance, "even though there was hardly anything left to cover."

A nod and smirk of satisfaction twisted the corners of her lips up. She may have trusted his judgement, but he was still her child. Her expression turned soft and she gave him a genuine smile. "Just not too much longer. Okay?"

Artie nodded. He shifted again, turning his whole body slightly to the right. This time Quinn wasn't the only who noticed the movement. Abbey took that tiny 'step' as her cue. "Let's go for a walk Artie," she proposed. Sliding her hand to cover where his was clasped around the grip of his crutch, something to mimic actual hand holding, she looked up at him expectantly. He knew immediately what she was asking of him.

In addition to the almost four week reprieve, not having a set of parallel bars, a therapist, and something other than hard wood covering the floor, were enough of a deterrent. Having Quinn there to witness the struggle it took for him to ambulate even just a little bit, was more than he was willing to share right now.

So, Artie being Artie, decided to downplay her request. "Abbey?" He regarded her seriously for a second. "You do know that I can't actually walk. Right?"

The ridiculousness of that question wasn't lost on the little girl as she froze, glaring up at her brother quizzically. There was hardly a moments hesitation before she let out a sarcastic, "Uh, ye-ah."

"Good." Artie allowed himself a good-natured chuckle, as he was able to settle back into his chair without too much effort. "Just checking."

Their Sunday dinner may have been picked up from the local fried chicken establishment, but each meal was made special by the cohesiveness the family exhibited. Mrs. Abrams delicious chocolate layer cake didn't hurt either.

"What? I just don't like when my food gets mixed together," Artie stated in playful defense. "There's nothing wrong with that."

"I wasn't saying there is," Quinn countered with a giggle. "It just seems a little---."

"Obsessive?" Andy cut in crudely.

"I was going to say methodical," she amended.

Alicia chuckled. "That's probably my fault," she confessed, "I let him eat off of his Spider-man divided plate until he was seven."

"And I'm sure it would've been longer if that plate hadn't cracked in the dishwasher," Art bantered along.

Quinn waited for Artie's witty comeback, but when it didn't come she looked up from her plate to see he had already pushed away from the table and was headed down the hall.

"Where's Artie going?" Abbey was the first to ask.

"His room I think." Mrs. Abrams was quick to reply.

The little girl looked on with worry in her big blue eyes. "Mommy. Do you think we hurt his feelings?"

"No Sweetie. Artie knows we were just playing around," Alicia assured her, then added quietly, "He just had to go take care of something."

Abbey accepted her mothers answer and silently went back to her dessert. But Quinn could tell by Artie's abrupt exit and Mrs. Abrams own expressive eyes, that something wasn't quite right.

After cleaning up the dinner mess, she took a chance on making amends. After all, she was the one who started the whole discussion on Artie's peculiar eating habits. Armed with her peace offering, Quinn stepped into the hall to find Artie's door open more than halfway. She could see him still in his chair, turned slightly away from her.

"I brought you another piece, since your ice cream melted into the other one," she announced cheerfully as she walked into the room, only after rapping twice on the door. She moved to place the dish on the large nightstand he was sitting in front of. "And I know how you don't like---." The rest died in her throat. "Artie? Your leg is moving."

"I know," he said, moving his hands from the calf they were kneading, up to his thigh, "but it's not what you think."

"Well then wha---," she stumbled over the words, as her eyes fixated on the usually completely still, but now trembling limb.

"It's a muscle spasm," he answered, eyes cast down and hands pressed firmly against his right leg. "Just an unpleasant side effect of um, my---condition." His voice didn't sound sad or bitter, just matter of fact.

"Does it hurt?" Quinn asked, immediately blushing at the stupidity of her question.

Surprising to her though, Artie actually cracked a smile. "It would if I could feel it," his reply was simple. "But I didn't even know it was happening until it got so bad, it knocked my foot off the footrest."

"So that's what happened back at the table?" The question was more for Quinn's piece of mind than anything. "That's why you left?" This time Artie nodded. "Good," Quinn let out a small sigh of relief and smiled. "Abbey and I were afraid we hurt you feelings."

"No, it wasn't you two," Artie insisted, his grin fading as he shifted self-consciously. "It's just this---it's a little embarrassing."

Quinn's stomach twisted with guilt for barging into his room the way she did. Of course something like this would be embarrassing for Artie. Something he had no control over. And then it occurred to her, "Okay, so if you're---I mean, if you can't move or feel your leg---how can it be moving?"

Artie regarded Quinn's question thoughtfully. No one had ever really asked him to explain it. All the kids at school ever wanted to know was if he could feel where they were poking him. "It's kinda like a telephone line. You can cut the wire almost completely through and still get static, but you can't make or receive any calls," he paused to make sure his analogy made sense. "This is my static."

Quinn nodded her understanding, but she wasn't entirely satisfied. "So, what makes it happen?"

"Anything really," Artie replied casually, his shoulders relaxing and his tone less nervous. "It could be something as simple as a touch, or something major like an infection. It usually happens the most when I'm tired or stressed or getting sick. My body's way of telling me I might have over done things." His hesitation resulted in the formation of a tiny grin across his lip."Like today."

"I'm sorry about that Artie," Quinn apologized. "I shouldn't have never made you show me."

"I wanted to. It was fun," he stated irrefutably. "And I should have known that this was bound to happen after the past few weeks of not being vertical. Just like I should've know how to prevent being sidelined in the first place."

"You're talking about that sore on your leg."

Artie nodded as his fingers unconsciously grazed the side of his thigh, just above the knee. "There's a huge scar here from the accident, and I have a really bad habit of not shifting my position enough throughout the day. I don't know if you've noticed, but my legs tend to naturally lean to the right. Well not naturally. I position them that way, of course." Artie could feel himself begin to ramble, so he paused a moment to catch his breath. "I just---long story short, I got complacent, the pressure from of leg sitting against the frame of my chair irritated the skin and I got a nasty sore."

Long story short? Quinn had to bite back a smile. "So does changing positions help with the spasms too?"

"Yeah, sometimes," Artie maintained with a short nod. "So does resting, massage, hot shower," he glanced at the bedside clock, smiled and shrugged, "which I'll try in about an hour, and medication---which always knocks me out, so I usually don't take that until I'm ready for bed."

The uncomfortable silence that followed, broke Quinn from her reverie. She immediately realized she was standing in the same place she started at when she first walked in and was still holding the piece of cake she brought for Artie in her hands. "Here, I just wanted to bring you this because you missed dessert," now she was the one rambling. She moved to set the plate on the nightstand. "You should probably rest."

"You don't have to go Quinn." Artie sounded sincere, almost as if he was inviting her to stay.

Quinn watched as he pivoted around and pulled next to his bed, locking the brakes in preparation to transfer. The conversation that followed her impromptu visit seemed to ease both of their anxieties. Not unlike his previous display, Artie's transfer to his bed was smooth and fluid. She waited for him to arrange his legs and settle back into the pillows before sitting down on the mattress, facing him. With an look of new found admiration and an ever growing smile, Quinn extended the cake out to him again.

Artie regarded the plate he had just been handed, then lowered it to his lap. "You know Quinn," his eyes flickered up to meet hers, not nearly as apprehensive as they once were. "If you have any other questions, I'd be happy to answer them," he offered, even though there were still many aspects of his life, he knew he wouldn't be comfortable discussing.

"Just one," she replied, glancing over her shoulder at his still openly displayed closet. She let out a soft giggle and turned back to Artie, a playful gleam in her eyes. "What's with the wardrobe?"

_**ANx2---Again, I hope I succeeded in giving a glimpse into Artie's life without being overly specific, or graphic. I wanted to show that theoretically, Artie would most likely be able to ambulate a little with his equipment, but since it is such a tedious process to explain, I settled for hinting at it instead. This chapter was a beast to finish with it's length and the fits my computer was giving me when I was trying to edit. I apologize for any mistakes that may have occurred.**_


	7. Chapter 7

_**An authors note---My unyielding thanks once again to all of those who have reviewed, favorited and alerted---especially to all of the new readers. While there seemed to be a smaller response to the last chapter, the feedback itself was amazing. Thank you all so much. I was a bit worried that since the chapter so long that it may have come off as boring or worse, was overly detailed and confusing. There was just so much information I needed to cram into it, before we'd be able to move on. Which is what I'm doing now. Moving on.**_

**_Disclaimer---Glee is the property of FOX, the creators and the writers. _**

**_Lean on Me_**

Once Artie's laughter died down, he was able to answer Quinn's question with a simple and honest reply. He liked the way he dressed. Maybe it was because he never really outgrew the---khaki/navy pant, white/blue button down dress or polo shirt---dress code the school district enforced on the elementary students back when he and Quinn were in the second grade.

He also felt the need to point out to her that a nerd like him would never be able to rock the Finn Hudson look---tight jeans and snug t-shirts, occasionally accompanied by the open plaid poplin. Quinn irrefutably disagreed, noting how handsome he always looked in the 'costumes' they wore for Glee club performances. While Artie's initial response to that compliment was a pink tinging of his cheeks and sheepish shrug, his self-consciousness quickly dissolved into a low chuckle.

It wasn't like he never wore jeans. It was just the relaxed fit, loose denim pants he had didn't hinder his movements or put any unnecessary constriction to his lower half and were worn more for functionality and comfort than style. With a shy grin, Artie let it slip how difficult it was for him to get in and out of those impossibly tight jeans they were forced to wear for the 'Last Name/Somebody to Love' combo at invitationals. Purposely leaving out the part that described the more than ten minute struggle, with him wriggling around on the dusty floor of one of the private back stage changing rooms, just to get said jeans up and over his hips. Artie was never more relieved that no one would be able to see his butt, since he was fairly certain that the seat of his pants would be filthy.

And Quinn couldn't help but laugh when Artie admitted that he had a deep affection for accessories. His shoe collection, while impressive, was ironically the least necessary of all of the items in his closet. Belts and suspenders, not always paired together of course, were a daily requirement needed to keep his pants from slipping below his hips, or off completely---especially when being pulled from his chair and tossed into a dumpster.

It was two days later while glancing at him during their English class, that Quinn realized that she actually liked the way Artie dressed. Okay, so the sweater vests were a little bit quirky, but they were so undeniably him. She also became aware of much more than just his fashion sense.

Ever since her crash course in Artie101, Quinn found herself constantly watching him. Admiring the way he moved, with that gracefully hidden athleticism that was entirely him. Becoming attentive to the strict schedule he followed, one he seemed to never stray far from---except when it came to changing his position. So Quinn decided to take matters into her own hands. She would make it a point to poke him with whatever she could find handy, pen cap, pencil eraser, finger, or if he was too far away, shoot a warning look his way if she found he'd gone more than thirty minutes without shifting. By Glee club rehearsal Tuesday after school, Artie already had a pretty good bruise forming on his shoulder, but he was definitely more aware of his habits.

Quinn figured that since Artie always seemed to be watching out for her, the least she could do was have his back too---and any other body part that may have needed attention.

It was now the Friday before winter break, the day of performing arts holiday extravaganza. The Glee club had been hard at work for the past three weeks, trying to get everything perfect for their upcoming performance. However, this particular Friday brought forth a peculiar conflict for some of it's members.

The group was gathered in the choir room for an impromptu meeting before the start of school that day. "As all of you know by now, our set decorations were destroyed by vandals earlier this week." Mr. Shuester's troublesome words effectively called the assembly to order. "Since then, we've been unable to use the auditorium." He scanned the room to see that all of the kids looked just about as upset as he felt. "Now, the custodians were able to repair the stage last night and promised to have everything cleaned up before the end if the day today. So, we could probably squeeze in a full rehearsal if we meet right after school."

"I'm sorry Mr. Shuester, but I simply must object," Rachel bellowed as she jumped from her seat. "There is absolutely no way we can hold rehearsal at that time."

"And why is that Rachel?,"Will asked, letting out a frustrated sigh.

"Well, for starters, today is the last day of Hanukkah," she replied very pointedly.

"Yes. I am aware of that," Mr. Shue replied. Funny, that didn't seem to be a problem before.

"And it is also a Friday."

This of course was common knowledge and only made it increasingly harder to follow Rachel's cryptic chatter.

"Duly noted."

Rachel stepped up to Will, shoulders pulled back and head held high, poising for her deliberation. "You see Mr. Shuester, these two occurrences pose a difficult dilemma for those of us who are of the Jewish faith." Without waiting for a response, Rachel merely took in a small breath and contiued. "When Hanukkah falls on a Friday night, which just happens to be our Sabbath, we must refrain from lighting candles at sundown since that is strictly prohibited on Shabbat. So, in order to withhold our age old tradition of lighting the Menorah, we must make sure our celebration takes place before sundown."

"Yeah, but the sun doesn't actually set 'til later," Mercedes pointed out. "School lets out at 2:15. We got plenty of time to rehearse and still get Cinderella home before the clock strikes four."

Rachel turned to face her friend. "Mercedes, you poor naive gentile," she said with a sympathetic shake of her head. "The symbolic lighting of the candles isn't the only process in the celebrating the Festival of Lights. We must first start the ritual off with songs, followed by prayers---."

"Okay," Mr. Shuster cut Rachel off, then glanced up at the ticking clock. "So is this going to be an issue for anyone else?" he asked with a frustrated sigh. "Puck?"

"Yeah. Exactly what she said," he answered, jerking his thumb in Rachel's direction. "Plus my Nana came all the way in from Akron to celebrate Hanukkah with us. She kill me if I missed the last day."

"I understand," Will gave an accepting nod as he turned to the next student on his mental list. "Tina?"

Considering she couldn't actually remember ever celebrating Hanukkah, nor did she understand one word that came out of Rachel's mouth, Tina had to pass. "Not at all Mr. S."

"Artie?"

He shook his head. "I'm good."

"Wait. Abrams is a Jew?" Puck croaked in disbelief.

Artie, not entirely sure to whom that question was directed, answered anyway. "My Gramma's Jewish."

"On his Dad's side." Quinn offered that little piece of information. Artie instantly remembered the---not quite as crass but equally shocked---reaction she gave when she first found out, and smiled at her. Quinn grinned back, then quickly glanced over at Noah. "We've been celebrating with his family all week."

Puck smirked and gave a satisfied nod. He turned and clapped Artie on the shoulder. "Welcome to the club man."

"Uh thanks," Artie replied under his breath, his eyes shifting curiously from side to side, "I think."

"Alright." Will called out exasperatedly. "With Rachel and Puck out of the program," he paused only to run one of his hands through his hair. "We're going to have to go with Mercedes and Finn for---."

It only took a second for those words to register. "Mr. Shuester," Rachel balked, "I'm afraid there's been a grievous misunderstanding here."

Resignedly, he vollied the imaginary ball back into her court. "Then by all means Rachel, please explain."

"If I may speak for Noah as well?" She looked expectantly over at Puck. Rachel took the noncommittal shrug he gave as consent and proceeded. "We were in no way removing ourselves from the production, Mr. Shuester. Only objecting to any extra curricular activities that may interfere with the expression of our religious beliefs and or traditions."

"Geez Girl. Why didn't you just say that in the first place?" Mercedes wailed.

"I thought I did," Rachel countered in all innocence.

"So the two of you _can _definitely perform tonight?" Mr. Shuester cut in impatiently, regarding both Rachel and Puck.

"Of course. I wouldn't miss it for anything," she chirped cheerfully, smiling when Puck nodded in confirmation.

The first bell of the day rang and Will could do nothing else but shake his head in disbelief. "Okay guys but we still have to arrange some kind of rehearsal before we go on." All movement in the room stilled and suddenly twelve anxious pairs of eyes were upon him. "Auditorium doors open at 6:30. Do you think you can all get here around five. That would give us a little more than an hour to practice onstage and with the newly constructed props." A sea of agreement followed, making Will smile for what was probably the first time that morning. "Rachel---this will work okay for you too?"

"Splendidly Mr. Shue," she beamed brightly. "Thanks."

"Good," he let out a relieved sigh then chuckled. "Alright you guys, get outta here and have a good day. I'll see you back here at five sharp." With that, the group quickly dispersed to their respective homerooms.

"Hey Q?"

Quinn froze at the use of her old nickname. Cringing, she spun on her heel. "Please don't call me that Noah."

"Um. Sorry. Quinn." He was obviously new to apologizing. There was a long pause while he shifted from foot to foot which made Quinn all the more anxious since second bell was only two minutes from ringing and she was nowhere near her homeroom. "Yeah, so---I was um, wondering if you'd come over after the show tonight." She wasn't sure if he was waiting for an answer or gauging her reaction. "My Nana wants to meet---."

"The girl you knocked up," she finished for him.

"I guess you can put it that way," he let out a low chuckle and shrugged. "She's gonna make this big Jewish feast tonight, 'cause she knows my Mom sure as hell won't. I mean, she knows my Mom doesn't cook. So, I thought maybe you'd wanna---."

"Oh, I have plans with the Abrams to go out for celebratory dessert after the performance." Quinn was in the process of declining Puck's offer, when she saw Artie out of the corner of her eye. He must have stopped to wait when he heard her name called, although he was a few paces ahead. Quinn could detect a hint of disappointment even as he was giving her an encouraging nod and mouthing the word 'go'. "That I guess I could get out of." She watched as he gave her a satisfactory smile before pivoting around and pushing off down the hall.

"Cool," Puck muttered, disappearing up the stairs just as the shrill of the bell made it known that Quinn was now officially late for homeroom.

She rolled her eyes and gritted her teeth_. What a great way to start off the day._

The show ended up being a success despite having to deal with the lack of rehearsals, a half finished set and a tacky stage floor that made it difficult to dance on. It all seemed to come together in the end, and the kids did a really good job. So good in fact, they earned a standing ovation and call for an encore after performing their last number, a jazzy rendition of 'Baby it's cold outside'.

As promised, Quinn left with Noah after the show. She'd spent the better part of the day trying to convince herself that this was the right thing to do. She needed the opportunity to really get to know this family that she will soon be forever bound to. And she new she had to find a way to get along with these people for the sake of her daughter---no matter how difficult that may be.

Exhausted and unnerved, Quinn quietly slid her key into the Abrams front door and pressed the latch. It was after eleven so she knew that everyone would be in bed already. After slipping out of her boots and hanging her coat in the front closet, Quinn set off for the family room to unplug the lights that shone through the window outside. To her surprise, there was another set of lights flickering in the room.

"You didn't have to wait up for me Artie," she stated pointedly, brow raised and hands on hips. But there was a smile in her voice as well as on her face.

"I know, and I wasn't," he replied from his comfortable looking spot the couch, trying to hold back a shy grin that was playing at his own lips as he shrugged. "I just couldn't sleep."

Quinn shot him a skeptical look. "Usually when you can't sleep you just stay in your room and read a book or listen to music---."

"Or join you for a snack," he countered playfully and her smile widened. "There's a slice of pie and glass of milk in the fridge with your name on 'em," Artie hesitated when he remembered where she'd just come from, "unless you're not hungry for dessert."

"Are you kidding? I'm starved," she answered, sighing dramatically. "I mean Puck's Nana's cooking was okay, but she's got nothing on your Gramma." Artie blushed slightly at the compliment. "Gramma A's latkes are the absolute best."

It made Artie happy to know that Quinn liked his extend family members as much as the ones she was currently living with. She seemed to fall so easily into place with everyone---both the Abrams, and his mothers side. "Yeah, they are pretty good," he grinned. There was definitely no denying that.

Quinn held Artie's gaze for a moment before the beckoning of a promised dessert got the best of her.

"Are you trying to tell me something Artie?" Quinn called out from the kitchen. "Two slices?" she asked with mock indignation seconds later when she returned to the family room.

Artie glanced at the plate she was holding containing two triangle shaped Styrofoam containers. "The other one is mine," he answered sheepishly.

Quinn's features immediately softened as the magnitude of this small gesture of kindness, truly hit her. Artie not only waited up to make sure that she got home okay, but he also saved his dessert so she wouldn't have to eat hers alone. "I didn't bring you a fork," she ended up saying the first thing that came to her mind.

Artie's grinned as motioned to the shining utensil magically laying on the coffee table in front of him. It was then that Quinn noticed the large glass of milk sitting next to it. "Not waiting for me, my ass," she muttered under her breath. Artie nearly burst into laughter as she sat down next to him. "So, what did you get?"

"Banana Cream for you and French Silk for me."

"Who said I wanted Banana Cream?" Quinn quipped.

"You always want Banana Cream," Artie returned playfully.

They both looked at each other at that very moment and smiled. "Chocolate covered banana."

Quinn lowered the plate to rest half on Artie's left thigh and half on her right. Their arms continuously crossing over one another so that they could alternate with each bite. "So how was it?" he asked between mouthfuls.

"Well I'm obviously here, so that must mean his mother didn't drag me in front of a firing squad and his little sister didn't make my head explode," she answered, completely deadpan.

"And the grandmother?" Artie pressed. Quinn shrugged indifferently and turned her attention back to their shared slices of pie. "So it was worth it?" he asked in all seriousness, just a beat later.

Quinn studied her friend. The glow from the Christmas lights and tv screen seemed to make his eye impossibly bluer. And there was this little dollop of whipped cream right over his upper lip---. "Oh yes." She let out a small giggle and nodded. "Definitely worth it."

She snuggled into the couch cushions and sighed contently._ What a great way to end the day._


	8. Chapter 8

_**An authors note---A special thank you to all of the readers and reviewers out there. Especially those who were kind enough to dismiss my worries about the length/content of chapter 6. I'm so glad to see it was accepted and enjoyed. I'm trying something a little different with just this chapter. I've decided break it down into seven drabbles for each day of the week. We'll start with (the next day)Saturday and end with Friday, Christmas day.**_

**_Disclaimer---Glee is the property of FOX, the creators and the writers. _**

**_Lean on Me_**

The next few days went by so quickly it completely slipped Quinn's mind, that for the first time in her life, she would not be spending Christmas with her own family. Life at the Abrams was, as usual, keeping her extra busy.

The weekend brought forth the start of a mile long list of to-do's at the house. Mrs. Abrams was some how expected to not only keep the house clean, get the groceries bought, her laundry done, keep the kids entertained, start the baking, finish her present shopping, wrap said gifts, and attend numerous holiday parties---but also find time to actually work.

**_Saturday-_**

This particular evening found Artie and Quinn in charge of the two youngest Abrams while the adults were attending the first of the three parties they had scheduled for that week. The most prestigious of the them all, it was a black-tie event honoring excellence in the field of architecture. Abrams and Associates was again receiving the top award this year, as they have every year since 2002, for their dedication in working to make all buildings accessible to those with disabilities. A cause especially meaningful to both Art and Alicia.

Artie sometimes accompanied his parents to this event, but opted out this year in favor of helping Quinn with his siblings. The two of them were currently in the kitchen, washing the dinner dishes---which ironically didn't contain any actual dishes. They four of them had eaten the pizza that was ordered directly out of the box, all while sitting in front of the tv in the family room. So only the tumblers they drank from and the bowls holding the ice cream sundaes that followed the pizza, were currently being washed.

It started out easily enough, the tableware was rinsed on the left side of the double sink by Quinn, then passed to the strainer on the right half where Artie would retrieve them and load them into the dishwasher. He had just reached for the last bowl, when his arm accidently bumped the bottle of dish soap, sending it splashing into the sudzy sink---and all over Quinn. "You creep," she shrieked with laughter.

Artie was truly mortified, "Sorry Quinn, I didn't mean to---," until his words were cut off by the splat of the wet sponge that struck him square in the chest, and the wicked grin of satisfaction on Quinn's face that followed the hit.

Artie glanced down at the towel he was holding. Rather than give it to Quinn like he originally intended so she could dry off, he instead dipped it into the sink of soapy water. And didn't bother to wring it out before playfully swinging it at her arm. She caught it mid flight and was able to easily disarm him.

Considering her next weapon choice Quinn decided to forgo the wet towel she had confiscated and went straight for the the big gun---the sprayer. "No Quinn, you wouldn't," Artie pleaded with his hands up in surrender. "That's not fair," he added, the both of them knowing full well that he couldn't reach the faucet from where he sat on the other side of the open dishwasher.

"This is war Artie," Quinn quipped, finger poised on the trigger, "Anything is fair game."

Artie smirked. Okay, if that's how she wanted to play. He grabbed the tallest tumbler from the dishwasher rack and ran it through the sink full of standing water. Quinn's eyes widened in disbelief. "You wouldn't throw that at a pregnant girl?" she challenged.

"I would if you spray the kid in the wheelchair," he teased back.

I only took seconds for the two of them to decided---and more than an hour to clean up all the water from the kitchen floor.

**_Sunday-_**

"No. I'm not doing dishes with you ever again."

"Why?"

"Because you splashed me."

"That was an accident."

"Maybe. But dousing me with a cup of water wasn't."

"You gave me no choice. You sprayed me. First. And that water was cold. At least I had the courtesy to use warm water."

"Yeah, _dirty _warm water."

Artie's smile was so impossibly wide he could barely contain his amusement. "But at least we got the kitchen floor washed."

Quinn giggled. "I don't think I've ever seen your mom so surprised."

"I'm not sure that was surprise," he quipped with a deep chuckle. "I think she was trying to figure out how water got up on the ceiling."

They laughed together for a long time before Quinn came up with an idea. "Why don't we surprise her again tonight?" Quinn asked, browsing over Mrs. Abrams to do list. "What if we so the grocery shopping for her?"

Artie looked up at the clock and shook his head. "It's getting late. Besides, my mom has this whole system she uses when she goes shopping. I'd probably screw it up."

"We could start the baking?"

Artie stared at her incredulously. After the water fight they had last night, she was seriously expecting him to pull out messy, sticky ingredients from the pantry and refrigerator. "No. I'm much better at eating baked goods than I am at making them."

Quinn shrugged. "How about the laundry then?" she suggested with a raise of her brow. "I'm pretty sure we could handle that."

"I don't know if I trust you. There's still water involved with that one," Artie playfully pointed out.

Quinn wrinkled her face in mock annoyance and gave his shoulder a light shove. "But only after you close the door and turn on the machine."

"I guess we could try," Artie conceded with a huge grin. "If you wouldn't mind grabbing the stuff from upstairs, I can get everything loaded."

Quinn nodded and was almost to the stairs when she nearly collided with a running, sobbing blur of seven year old. "Abbey, what's wrong?" she asked, steadying the little girl by placing her hands on her shoulders.

The poor thing was gasping and sputtering, almost so hard that she could barely get any words out. "I---I need---Artie."

"Why, what happened?" she pressed, looking over Abbey to see if she's been hurt in some way.

"I---I just need him," she cried, trying to pry herself from Quinn's gentle grasp.

Once successful, Abbey rushed down the hall her brother was heading through. "What's up Squirt?" His cheerful greeting was only met with a strangled sob as she clamored into his lap. "Hey, what's wrong?," he asked, glancing worriedly up at Quinn for answers, but all he got in return was a perplexed shrug and a pair of equally concerned eyes. Abbey responded by wrapping her arms around his neck and burying her teary face into his shoulder.

"Abbs---what happened?" Artie asked soothingly as he gently rubbed his hand over her back and laid a soft kiss on the top of her head. With mannerisms so much like his mothers, it was easy to see how Abbey would feel safe in his arms.

She was only able to get a few words out, "An-Andy said I was---a stupid baby fff-for believing in Sss-santa Clause," before dissolving back into a fit of quaking sobs. "-he said Sss-santa's not---real and Mommy---and Da-ddy are the one's---who bb-buy the presents an-and put them un-der the tt-ree."

Artie chest clenched and he pulled her tighter into his embrace. Her shudders eased slightly as she snuggled closer. "Well, I think that Andy's part Grinch."

Abbey lifted her head, a small grin playing at her lips. "But he's not green Silly," she sniffled in reply.

"I bet he is on the inside," Artie whispered playfully, making her giggle just as hard as she'd been crying, seconds ago. "Abbey," he called, gently pushing her up so he could look into her eyes, "I can't prove to you that everything people say about Santa is true or not, but I do know that you're not a baby, and you are definitely not stupid." His tone had a bit of an angry edge to it that was in no way directed towards her. "You can believe in anything you want and nobody has the right to call you names or make fun of you for it."

Abbey gave a small nod of understanding. "So you think Andy was wrong?" she asked her brother in all innocence, after just a few seconds of contemplation.

"I think he was very wrong," he replied certainly, a tender hand wiping the tears from her cheeks.

The touching exchange gave Quinn a moment to really study brother and sister. Abbey's long hair was obviously their mothers, the same light honey brown color and her features were softer and more feminine, but everything else was pure Artie. The little girl suddenly sprang up."What do you think Quinn?"

Quinn's eyes glistened with pooling tears as she smiled at them. "I think that you just might have the best big brother on the planet Abbey."

_**Monday-**_

"Thank you for inviting me to come along Mrs. Abrams. I really appreciate it," Quinn stated as the two made their way to a vacant table in the crowded mall's food court.

"Actually Quinn, you're doing me the favor," Alicia replied brightly, divvying up their food. "I hate doing my Christmas shopping alone, but Abbey's too young to come with. Art won't step foot into a store during the holidays. Andy despises any type of shopping. And Artie has a hard time maneuvering around all the tight spaces and people." She put hand over the young girls fingers and squeezed gently. "But I should be the one thanking you." Quinn expression quickly turned puzzled, making Alicia add, "For all of the hard work you put in this weekend."

"That was nothing Mrs. Abrams---considering everything your family has done for me." She hesitated slightly and gave a small sheepish shrug. "Besides, Artie did most of the work."

"But that's just it," Alicia pointed out, "he couldn't have done half of those things without your help."

It may have been the truth, but Quinn still blushed at the compliment. "Well maybe not dust the high shelves or mop the floor, but---."

"Or the vacuum the carpet, or carry the laundry up the stairs---."

"Actually, Artie made Andy do that."

"Or help Abbey with her bath." Their words tumbled over each others, the table immediately falling quiet after Alicia uttered hers. She glanced down at her lunch, poking the fried rice mindlessly with her fork. "Artie gets especially frustrated when there are things he can't do with or for Abbey."

That was easy to understand and obvious to see considering the how close the two of them were. But it really didn't seem to happen all that often. Artie and Abbey were especially creative in the ways they worked around obstacles and found alternatives. Quinn broke out into a wide grin. "Artie is so amazing with her."

"He always has been," Alicia acknowledged proudly. "And she absolutely adores him."

"So does he," Quinn replied, stating the obvious. She let out a small chuckle the more she thought about it. "He's going to make a great dad someday." Alicia's reaction to that statement, a mix of surprise and overwhelming emotion, was misconstrued by Quinn. "Oh God Mrs. Abrams. I'm sorry. I didn't mean---I mean, I---."

"Sweetie it's okay. You just caught me off guard," Alicia said with an assuring pat of the hand. "It's just when most people see Artie, they assume that'll never happen."

Quinn nervously cleared her throat. "But he can. Right?---Um, have kids"

"He would die of embarrassment right now if he knew we were talking about this," Alicia chuckled softly as shook her head. "Artie's doctor's have always been optimistic. His injury was sustained at a very young age, which could pose some problems in of itself, and we know that it's unlikely to happen without some type of medical intervention, but it could be possible. Artie's accepted all of this, and he realizes that if it doesn't happen biologically, there are other options available to him." Alicia's expression softened and she allowed her smile to return. "And knowing my son, he'll find a way."

"I'm sure he will," Quinn replied, her tone soft and sincere. "Besides, biology doesn't automatically make someone a good father." She glanced up to find Mrs. Abram's studying her. Pushing her own messed up paternity drama aside, Quinn added with a grin, "Being a kind, compassionate, patient person does. And that's exactly who Artie is."

Alicia's emotions got the best of her. "Thank you Quinn," she barely managed the wavering whisper. Mrs. Abrams reached her hand out again and squeezed. "I just wish everyone could see those wonderful qualities in him too."

It was Quinn's turn to get misty eyed.

So did she.

_**Tuesday-**_

"So, shopping was good?" Artie asked as he circled the kitchen table.

"Yes Artie. For the hundredth time, shopping with your mom was great," Quinn replied, giving him a sideways glance. He was just so easy to toy with. "Why do you keep asking?"

Pivoting to a stop in front of her, he dropped his hands into his lap and shrugged sheepishly. "I don't know. It's just you two have been acting all chatty and giggly---it's kinda creeping me out."

Quinn made a pouty face as she stood up. "Why, are you jealous of my friendship with your Mommy?" she asked teasingly.

"Jealous? Of course not," he stammered in reply, "I just---."

"Don't worry Artie, she didn't divulge any of your deep, dark secrets," Quinn cut in flippantly, running her hand across the back of his shoulder as she passed him on her way to the refrigerator.

"Wait, you guys talked about me?" he gasped in shock.

"Of course we did," she countered incredulously, handing him a juice pouch. "We talked about you, your brother and sister, school, Glee club, boys, babies. Everything. It was a great bonding experience."

Artie's jaw dropped open a little wider. "You two _bonded_ over me."

"I guess," Quinn innocently sipped her drink. His expression was just priceless. "That's not too weird, is it?"

"Yeah. It kind of is." His deadpan answer only fueled her amusement.

"Hey Quinn," Abbey called from the entry. The blond turned, smiling at the little girl. "Andy said there's some---," she paused contemplatively, "mow-hawk dude out front, asking for you."

With a brief glance in Artie's direction, Quinn stalked from the room. "What are you doing here?" she gritted under her breath when she reached the door.

"Came to see how you and the kid were doin'," he answered motioning with a flick of his chin, to her belly.

"We're fine. Now go," she growled back.

"Oh hello," Alicia called as she descended the stairs. "Noah right?" Puck nodded. "Come on in."

Puck flashed Quinn a sly smirk as he stepped inside. "Look smokin' tonight Mrs. Abrams," he complimented with a wink.

Artie wrinkled his face in disgust, while Alicia fought the urge to roll her eyes at the infamous Puckerman charm. "Thank you Noah. My company's holiday party," she offered instead. Mrs. Abrams proceeded to kiss her children goodnight, Quinn included. "It's a weeknight, so we won't be out too late."

"Have a nice time," Quinn called out after her, then turned her attention back to Puck.

"Thought we'd go get a burger or something," he suggested before she had a chance to get anything out.

"I'm helping Artie babysit," she replied dismissively.

"What, those two?" Puck asked quizzically, pointing over to where Andy and Abbey were quietly lounging in the family room. "Wheels can handle that."

Quinn was about to contradict that statement, when Artie returned to the room after seeing his parents off. "Hey Puck, it you wanna stay for dinner---." Artie's words trailed off as he moved to close the door that was left standing open. "I was just about to put some chicken tenders and fries in the oven," he added, pulling ahead of them to lead the way to the kitchen.

"Oooh. Got yourself a real life Betty Crocker here," Puck quipped teasingly as he smirked over at Quinn. "Next thing you know, you'll be telling me you bake your own gingerbread houses to decorate."

"We do, but that's not 'til tomorrow," Artie announced nonchalantly as he glanced over his shoulder and smiled.

The undignified snort of laughter Puck let out earned him an elbow to the ribs from Quinn. "Listen," she growled, her tone warning but her words just soft enough for him to hear. "If you came here to make fun of Artie or his family, you can just leave now."

The girls was dead serious and he knew it. "Relax Babe," Puck said dismissively as he straddled one of the kitchen chairs. "I just came here to spend a little quality time with my baby-mama." Quinn scowled at him as she crossed her arms over her chest and sank down in the seat across from him. She held his gaze until he called out, "Hey Wheels, you got any beer?". Then she rolled her eyes and shook her head.

It was going to be a very long night.

_**Wednesday-**_

It finally hit her on Wednesday morning.

Hard.

Quinn woke in a relatively good mood, considering Noah overstayed his three hour long welcome the night before, by about three hours too many. It was very awkward at first. Abbey was definitely intimidated by him, but that was most likely due to the fact that she was all too familiar with the younger Puckerman. Noah's sister was a third grader at her school.

Andy seemed to be in awe at having an actual McKinley High sports star, in his house and eating dinner with them. Which was ideal for Quinn, since it kept Noah focused on talking about football and basketball and not her or their current predicament. Andy also appeared to be quite enamored with Puck's hairstyle, much to Artie's chagrin.

Artie, like always, took everything in stride, even engaging Puck in a friendly game of poker. But it became very apparent after only three games that Artie Abrams was much more than just a novice card player---he was a total shark.

_"You think I should be worried?" Artie asked Quinn as they watched Noah trudge back to his truck from the bay window of the family room._

_"No," Quinn shook her head, "Because that would require admitting defeat, and Noah is far to proud to do that."_

_"I was thinking along the lines of actual bodily harm," he returned, his eyes sparkling eyes and a sly grin playing at his lips._

_"He knows better than to lay a finger on you." Artie blushed at her protectiveness as she smiled at him. "How did you learn how to play like that anyway?"_

_"Rehab," Artie answered as he turned his chair away from the window. "My mom and I started playing cards when I was in the hospital---go fish and war to pass the time, or she'd play solitaire if I was sleeping. When I got to rehab, the staff there wouldn't let her lift me because she was pregnant, and I still had the cast on my left arm for the first two weeks, so I couldn't transfer myself. They had this orderly named Brad there to help out, and every time he came around, he'd show me these crazy card tricks. Then one day he said I needed to learn how to play something other than baby games, so he taught me."_

_"You learned how to play poker at eight years old?" Quinn asked incredulously._

_Artie nodded as he added, "Poker, Gin Rummy, Pinochle and Blackjack."_

_Quinn's smirk intensified. "That must be how you got your nickname, huh Ace."_

_There was a mock teasing tone to her voice, but Artie knew she was being sincere. He couldn't help but blush. "I was outgrowing my other one anyway, so when I beat my dad the first time we played, Aces up---," he shrugged self-consciously and smiled, "it just kinda stuck."_

The entire exchange played back in her head as she bounded down the stairs to the kitchen. "Good morning," she announced. Abbey and Artie were the only two present, which wasn't surprising considering it was only 9:37 in the morning. Andy wouldn't be rolling out of bed for at least another hour or so.

"Hey," Artie replied back cheerfully. "Mom has to work this morning. We're on our own 'til this afternoon."

"So, cereal again today?" Quinn quipped playfully.

Artie shook his head and grinned proudly. "I made waffles."

"Yeah, in the toaster," Abbey embellished with a teasing giggle.

His sheepish shrug made Quinn laugh. "Waffles sound great Artie. Thanks."

They both reached the freezer door at the same time, but Artie had the advantage of blocking her advances. He courteously shooed her away and waited until she sat down next to Abbey before retrieving the waffles. "Blueberry or chocolate chip?" he asked, peering out from behind the door.

"Blueberry please," she called back, smiling at the way his eyes sparkled through the lens of his glasses.

"Aren't you excited Quinn?" Abbey squealed as she wiggled anxiously in her seat.

"For frozen waffles?" she chuckled quizzically.

"No Silly, for tomorrow," Abbey returned with a mock scolding tone. "It's Christmas Eve."

"Oh yeah. Sorry, I forgot," and remembered all too quickly. There would be no dinner at her Aunt Veronica's house. No squabbling with her sister at the table. No rolling her eyes at her immature brother-in-law and annoying cousins. No mountain of overpriced gifts with her name on the tags.

"Your waffles Mademoiselle," Artie announced in his best French accent. Quinn snapped from her reverie just as he was lifting the plate from his lap, to place in front of her. She could feel the sting of tears forming behind her eyes.

"I'm sorry Artie," she sniffled as she pushed the chair back and stood abruptly. "I'm just not that hungry anymore."

_**Thursday-**_

"Please Quinn, you've gotta come," Artie pleaded from the other side of the closed door. He'd given her enough time to wallow in her selfmade misery. It was Christmas Eve, and he wasn't about to let her spend it alone.

"Sorry Artie, but I'm just not feeling up to it," she replied, sinking back onto the bed in exhaustion. The great thing about being pregnant was that you could use it as an excuse to get out of almost any situation, and nobody would think twice about questioning it. Except for maybe Artie Abrams.

"Why?"

"Because."

"Are you sick?"

"No."

"Then why?"

"Just because."

"But it's Christmas."

"So?"

"C'mon Quinn. We're just going to my grandparent's---and you love my grandparents," Artie coaxed, his tone was concerned and borderline pleading. There was a pause as the sound of him moving closer to the door could be heard. "I know the holidays are probably hard for you and I understand if you really don't feel like celebrating. But I'd hate for you to miss singing with the choir at mass today, especially after all of the rehearsing you put in. My Dad said he'd bring you back home after mass if you didn't want---."

"Oh, please tell me you're joking," she gasped playfully as soon as she opened the door wide enough to get a good look at Artie.

"Of course I'm not," he answered, coming off as almost offended. "My dad said he would---."

"No," Quinn stopped him. She twisted her head to the side and wrinkled her face in an expression that resembled a cross between confusion and repulsion. "Artie, are those moose?"

He glanced down at the bold red knit pattern prancing across his chest. "Reindeer," he corrected, grinning up at her. In spite of the innocence of his answer, Quinn burst out in a fit of giggles. Artie looked back down at his sweater. "Too much?" he asked with that adorable contemplative twist of his mouth.

"Well, maybe---I---," she hesitated, biting her lip apprehensively. Sure this wasn't one of his best, but it wasn't one of his worst either. That distinction went to the powder blue sweater vest with the clouds and flowers. "No," Quinn smiled as she adjusted shoulder part of his sweater, "You look perfectly festive."

Artie lowered his head bashfully, but it wasn't because he was embarrassed. "Please come with us Quinn," he implored, his eyes lifting slowly to meet hers.

Quinn turned away from the door, stepping back toward the bed when she remembered Artie couldn't follow her. "I don't know Artie," she said, sighing heavily as she spun around. "I'm just really not in the mood to be around people today." She glanced down at the tattered pajamas she was still dressed in from the day before yesterday. "Besides, I look fat and horrible and have nothing nice to wear."

"Quinn you do not look fat or horrible. You're pregnant---and beautiful," Artie assured her with a small but genuine smile. "All you need is a nice warm shower," he trailed off as he backed up a little and reached over to were his chair lift was sitting. "And maybe this." Quinn's mouth fell open as he pulled the black garment bag over his lap and unzipped it. "I swapped it from the wardrobe closet Friday after the performance." It was the black dress she wore for Sectionals, complete with red sash and patent shoes. "I thought you could pair it with that little red sweater you have."

Her heart swelled to about three times it's normal size. She grabbed the bag with her left and hugged Artie with her right. "Thank you so much."

"So, does that mean you'll come?" he asked, beaming hopefully.

There was no need for words, her smiling eyes said it all.

_**Friday-**_

Quinn woke up Christmas morning to the sound of her bedroom door creaking open. "Abbey?" she asked, barely able to make out the shadowy outline of the small figure standing in her doorway.

"Merry Christmas," Abbey whispered, tiptoeing in quietly.

Quinn groaned as she rolled over to see the digital alarm clock reading 6:24am. "Merry Christmas to you," she replied, trying to keep her tone as cheerful as she could at such an ungodly hour.

"Me and Artie always get up early to watch the sunrise on Christmas morning," she explained softly. "I thought you might like to come too."

Quinn's sleepy brain tried to process the information given. "Does this require going outside in the cold for any length of time?"

"No Silly," Abbey giggled and shook her head, "just downstairs."

"Okay," Quinn replied resignedly, although it wasn't very hard, even for her weary body, to get caught up in the little girls excitement.

Somewhat fuzzy about how she actually got there, Quinn found herself standing in front of Artie's bedroom door when it suddenly opened. He looked just about as tired as she felt. "Abbey," he let out a slightly exasperated sigh,"Quinn needs her sleep---for the baby."

"But she said she wanted to," Abbey argued, conveniently leaving out the part that she actually woke Quinn up and practically begged her to join them.

"Sorry she roped you into this," he offered with apologetic eyes. "You can go back up to bed if you want."

"No, it's sounds like fun," Quinn replied, gradually coming into a state of wakefulness. "I just don't understand why it has to be so early. The sun doesn't actually rise for a least another hour---that's if it decides to show at all."

"The kid is way too smart for her own good," Artie smirked, throwing a pointed glance in his sisters direction. "She knows my schedule like the back of her hand, and also knows that if given the chance, I'd totally haul my ass back under the covers after I finished in the bathroom."

Quinn couldn't help but smile at Artie's quip, and at how he was able to talk openly around her about subjects that still obviously made him uncomfortable.

"What's first squirt?" he asked Abbey, his blue eyes now fully awake and gleaming in the dark foyer.

"The tree," she answered, running over to flip the switch that set the room ablaze in multicolored lights.

"Looks like Santa already took care of the seating for us," he announced playfully, motioning to the couch that had been shifted to face the bay window. "Next the blanket," he called, and Abbey began pulling a plush fleece from the large drawer under the coffee table. "And then?"

Her face lit up and she grinned excitedly. "The hot cocoa with candy canes."

While in the kitchen preparing the chocolate drinks, Artie explained to Quinn the origin of this unique tradition. "It all started the Christmas of 2002, Abbey's first." He continued to talk as he filled the mugs with boiling water. "So after Mom fed her, she tried to put her back to bed, but the baby wouldn't sleep. She was making a lot of noise, so Mom decided to bring her downstairs so she wouldn't wake the rest of us. But, she didn't know that Andy and I convinced my Dad to let us stay downstairs to wait up for Santa."

"They never did get see him," Abbey told Quinn disappointingly as they now moved into the family room.

Artie smiled at his little sister, sitting on the couch between him and Quinn. "Andy had gone up to bed sometime during the night, but I was stuck down here since I didn't have a spare chair to use upstairs. I woke up when they came down here, and instead of going back up to bed just to have to come back down again in an hour or so, I asked my Mom if we could just stay here and wait for my Dad and Andy to wake up. She made us some hot chocolate and we sat on the couch until the sun came up."

"And we've done it every year," Abbey contributed happily, spreading the blanket over each of their laps. "Only me and Artie though, Mom doesn't come down anymore."

"Yeah, not since I moved down here and Abbey was old enough to get out of bed by herself," Artie added in recollect as he passed out the mugs of cocoa. Quinn almost felt like an intruder, even if she was invited by Abbey. Yet there she sat, on Christmas morning, with her friend and his sister, waiting and watching as the darkness turned to light.

"This is so beautiful," Quinn declared with a gasp as the warm sun started to filter through the east facing window. She scanned the room that was being bathed in brightness.

From the corner of her eye, Quinn saw movement. She glanced over her right shoulder to find Mrs. Abrams rising from her perch in the middle of the staircase. She smiled happily as she placed a single finger to her lips. Quinn nodded in understanding and Alicia quietly crept back upstairs.


	9. Chapter 9

_**An authors note---to all of you fabulous readers and reviewers, thanks for continuing to support this story. I've jumped a bit with and in this chapter. So, we are now on our way to regionals---of course not without some drama, and maybe a little blackmail. The next few chapters will be rounding out the story, although it may not be finished by the April premiere like I had originally intended on. I am working on it though.**_

**_Disclaimer---Glee is the property of FOX, the creators and the writers. _**

**_Lean on Me_**

The dawning of a new year as well as a new decade, produced itself a brand new Quinn Fabray. Left in 2009 was the vain, spiteful alpha bitch who pretended not to care about anyone or anything but self preservation and status. Quinn learned more about herself and the person she wanted to become from the month living as an honorary member of the Abrams family than she had in her entire sixteen years. And she was really beginning to like that person.

Not afraid to be her true self anymore, Quinn returned to the halls of McKinley High with her shoulders squared and her head held confidently. She now walked proudly beside her fellow glee club members, Artie especially and Kurt, Mercedes, Tina---even Rachel. And dressed not in the ambiguous clothing she felt she needed to wear during her first trimester, but comfortable, more pregnancy friendly clothes the Abrams so generously gave her for Christmas---ones that didn't hide the swell of the miracle growing inside of her.

With the change comes strength, something Quinn was about to learn first hand.

"Okay guys, the official schedule for Midwest Regional Show Choir Competition has finally arrived," Will stated, excitedly waving the goldenrod enveloped over his head. He slid the packet out and began flipping through the pages. "Says here that performances will be held February 12th through the 14th, in---Chicago, which isn't too far away," he added, obviously pleased with the choice.

"That's Valentine's day weekend Mr. Shuster," Santana pointed out, sounding more than just a little unhappy about that.

"I know Santana. I'm afraid there's nothing we can do about that," Will shrugged apologetically, then broke out into a wide grin. "But what's more fun than spending Valentine's day in a great new city with eleven of your best friends?"

"Oh, I know," Brittany's hand shot up and she smiled. "Balloon animals." Kurt patted Brit's knee and gave her a sympathetic smirk while the others looked on confused.

Santana rolled her eyes. "I can think of about a hundred other things," she muttered under her breath. The sideways glance in Puck's direction that followed, was not lost on Quinn. However, it was the voice to her right, that really caught her attention.

Artie cleared his throat softly. "So we'll be there the whole weekend?."

"There's over one hundred performances spread out between those days, with the awards ceremony to be held around 5pm on Sunday," Will replied as he slowly paged through the schedule. "You guys are number 39 which put you around 11:30 Saturday morning. So yeah---it looks like we're gonna have to leave here Friday after school and stay over."

Artie nodded, but Quinn could see his shoulders stiffen ever so slightly.

"But to cut the costs of putting everyone up in a hotel, the host college has offered the use of their old housing facilities. There are two buildings, one for the female occupants and one for the males. Dorm style rooms, three bunks to each room with a pull out couch for the chaperon at a price of just fifty dollars a room for the entire weekend."

"One hundred dollars for all of us to stay," Rachel squealed. "That's well within the Glee clubs sadly lacking budget Mr. Shuester."

Will gave an exuberant thumbs up and read on. "Bathroom are blocked, four to a floor---."

"Wait a minute," Puck balked in protest, "we gotta share toilets and showers with a buncha other dudes?"

Will smirked. "They're institutional type bathrooms, Noah. Probably not much different than the locker rooms down in the gym with multiple stalls and showers."

Artie continued to tense, and was now wringing his hands nervously in his lap. "Mr. Shue?" he called out, timidly raising his hand only halfway. "Are um, any of those rooms handicap accessible?"

"Shoot Artie, I don't know. I doesn't say here," Will frowned as he went back to carefully scan each page. "In fact, I can't find any accommodation information for disabled participants."

"Probably because there aren't any others," Puck blurted, earning him quite a few glares and scolding looks---the strongest one coming from Quinn. "What?" he shrugged dismissively. "I was just saying."

"I'll have to get back to you on that, okay Artie?" At his nod, Will continued. "On to transportation. Since that particular responsibility falls onto our shoulders yet again, we'll need the bus and probably at triple the cost. I say we---."

"Please don't say bake sale," Santana objected dramatically.

"Well, what else are we supposed to do?" Tina countered. "It's not like we could hold a car wash in the middle of January."

"What if we hosted a talent show or a fine arts night?" Quinn suggested. "Or maybe have a few of those PTA restaurant benefits where all or most of the proceeds go to the cause you're raising money for."

"Yeah, the-send-Artie-to-regionals-fund," Mercedes quipped, flashing him a playful smile.

But Artie didn't really like the sound of that. In fact, he didn't like the sound of any of it. He hated being the subject of charity, no matter how well meaning the intentions may be. He was about to suggest he just get a ride from one of his parents when he remembered his dad would be away on business and his mom was standing up to a wedding that weekend.

"Well it'll have to be something profitable and it will have to be something we can put together within the next three weeks," Will concluded as he wrote the proposals down in his notebook. "In the meantime, get these permission slips signed and pack to me ASAP."

Quinn leaned closer to Artie and placed her hand on his forearm. "See," she whispered as she handed him one of the papers. "It'll all work out." Artie may have nodded and pressed his lips into an appreciative smirk as he shrugged into his coat, but what he was feeling was far from gratitude.

Artie was uncharacteristically quiet during the ride home, and practically mute at the dinner table. Unfortunately for him, Quinn didn't share in that particular trait.

"We can't miss you guys perform at regionals," Alicia groaned in disappointment. She glanced over at Art. "I know you can't get out of your business trip, but I'm sure Miranda would understand if I couldn't make it to the wedding."

"She's your best friend from high school," Artie broke his vow of silence to point out.

"It's her second marriage though."

"Mom, you're the Maid of Honor and Abbey's the flower girl," he retorted incredulously.

Alicia obviously felt torn. "I can probably do both," she sighed heavily, then looked between Artie and Quinn. "I'll drive up Friday night and stay over, catch your performance, and still get back here in time for the wedding."

Artie rolled his eyes. "Mom, the drive is over four hours long and there's an hour time difference between here and Chicago. You'll never make it back home by three for the ceremony. And what about pictures and all that."

"Then I'll make it back for the reception," Alicia reasoned, flashing Artie a very pointed look. "I'm not going to miss you two perform."

"What's the point anyway? It's not like they're gonna win," Andy voiced his crass opinion to the astonishment of his audience. "This thing covers the whole Midwest and probably like a hundred schools. The only reason they took first in that section thing was because there were only two other schools in the competition and he," there was a nod in Artie's direction, "won them the pity vote."

"Andrew Thomas," Alicia growled, her hand slapping against the table top in outrage.

"What?," he snickered sarcastically and shrugged. "It's the truth."

Mrs. Abrams looked ready to pounce. "Mom, it's fine," Artie stated, reaching out a hand to calm her. "You're not going to miss me sing at regionals," he added, glancing away self-consciously, "because I'm not going."

A chorus of "what"s rang out around the table. "I've decided to withdrawl myself from the competition."

"Artie, you can't do that," Quinn cried, sounding desperate.

"I've already found a suitable replacement," he said, remaining strong, even if he felt like jello on the inside. "And I plan on telling Mr. Shuester first thing tomorrow morning."

"What about your duet with Mercedes or your guitar solo?" she implored.

"I picked Josh from the jazz band, because he's the best on bass---."

"No Artie, you are."

He chose to ignore Quinn's comment for the time being. "and he's a decent singer. Maybe not strong enough for a duet with Mercedes---Mr. Shue'll probably give that to Finn. But I think he'll be able to pick up the choreography fairly quickly."

"No," she spat in protest.

Artie backed up from the table. "I've made up my mind Quinn." And with that, he was gone.

Quinn waited rather impatiently for Artie to finish with his evening routine. "We're not through discussing this," she stated, pushing her way into his bedroom just as soon as the knob turned on the door.

"There's nothing to discuss Quinn," he replied dismissively, quickly gripping the wheel rims of his chair to stop from rolling too far backward.

"Then how about explaining why you suddenly decided to back out of the most important competition of our career thus far, less than four weeks before it's set to take place?" Her hands found her hips and her stance was set and determined---none of which was a good sign.

"I just think it would be easier for everyone if I didn't go." Okay, so that wasn't a total lie, but it wasn't exactly the complete truth either.

Quinn must have picked up on that too. "Why?," she pressed.

Artie let out a heavy sigh, "Because."

"Because of what Andy said?" she queried, brow raised.

"No, not because of what Andy said," he maintained, even though the words his brother uttered were never far from his mind. Artie chewed on his lip and picked at his nails. "If I wasn't going, then you guys would be able to focus more on the numbers instead of having to find ways to accommodate me."

"Artie, if this is about the bus thing---, " her words trailed off as she took a step closer to him. "Like I said, we'll find a way to make that happen."

"What if we can't Quinn?" he asked softly. "We had a hard enough time raising twelve hundred dollars in a week, the last time. Do you really think we can raise over triple that in only three?"

"We can try," she offered sincerely.

"But even if we did raise the money, who's to say we can get that bus for the entire weekend," Artie pointed out bleakly. "I'm just trying to save you guys the trouble of doing all that work for nothing."

Quinn wasn't about to let him off that easily. "Forget the bus then. I'll just drive us out there."

"You're not insured on the van."

"So, we'll take my car," she suggested. "I can help with the transfers if you need me to and your chair folds up nicely, so it should fit in the backseat or trunk---," her voice caught in her throat when she saw him shift uncomfortably. He should have been happy about this positive turn of events, but he obviously wasn't. "Artie, what is it, really?"

There was a long string of silence while Artie intently studied his lap. "I haven't been away from home, without at least one of my parents, since before the accident." It all came out in a soft rush of breath, that made Quinn's chest clench tightly. Her outward appearance, however, remained unwavering.

"So?" she asked in challenge, a slight smirk playing on her lips. "You're older now, and from what I've seen, perfectly capable of taking care of everything on your own."

Artie let out an irritated sigh. "Sure, here at home, where I have all the customizations and equipment I need to help me do those things."

"But Mr. Shue said he was going to look into finding an accessible room," Quinn reminded him.

"And what if there isn't any---then what do I do?" Artie asked frustratedly, but didn't wait for an answer. "The room has bunk beds Quinn. There is no way I can get in and out of even a bottom bunk without a lot of help."

"I'm sure the other guys would have no problem helping you Artie," she stated, but he didn't looked convinced. "Or maybe Mr. Shuester could take the bunk and give you the pull out couch."

"Maybe," he shrugged, agreeing half-hearted. "But are they also going to be willing to help me take a shower? And what about the bathroom? I mean, the looks are bad enough when they see me take my cath kit in the stall with me---can you imagine what it'll be like once they find out what it requires for me just to take a crap?" Artie froze. The words he'd just uttered still ringing clearly in his ears, but nothing else registered. He wasn't sure how long it took him to remember to breathe or how he managed to move his chair.

Quinn was glad he had turned away like that, if he hadn't, she was almost certain she would have broken down at the pain and embarrassment evident in his eyes mere seconds ago. "Artie?" she called softly.

He turned his head slightly, but didn't look back at her. "I don't want you to feel sorry for me Quinn."

"I didn't," she sighed, stepping around to place her hands on the arm rests of his chair. Leaning forward, she glared straight into his eyes. "until you started acting like a selfish idiot." The firmness in her tone as well as the insult, made Artie flinch slightly. That definitely was not the reaction he was expecting. "I can't believe you, of all people, would let your disability stop you from doing something you really wanted to do."

"You don't understand," he shot back.

And she didn't. She didn't understand what it was like to be him, but Quinn was fairly certain that Artie Abrams was no quitter. "I understand that by taking yourself out of the competition, you are ruining any chance we have at winning." He looked up at her skeptically. "We need you Artie---I need you." His gaze fell guiltily. "And if my partner is not there to participate, then I can't rightfully go on. And if I don't go, then New Directions will be down two members instead of just one, and therefore disqualified."

"You wouldn't do that Quinn," he heeded warningly.

"I most certainly would" she quipped sharply. "So, as much of a nice guy as I'm sure Josh is, I'm not going to regionals without my partner Artie---and that's you."

The way he slumped in defeat, nearly broke Quinn's heart. "Look," she started, then paused to kneel in front of him, "why don't we just wait to see if Mr. Shuester has any luck finding an accessible room before we make any brash decisions?" He gave a self-conscious half shrug that was good enough for Quinn. "But if not, I might just have another place for us to stay in Chicago," she added as a sly grin quickly spread across her lips.

As it turned out, plan A was a bust. Will worked fervently to locate somewhere for all of them to stay together, but the cheep rooms were not accessible and the dorm rooms on the campus that were, were only available to actual students of the school. Hotels were far too expensive and were unable to fit seven to a room, just as they were unable to allow the kids to stay in separate rooms without the company of an adult chaperon. But Miss Fabray had a plan B.

Three and a half weeks later, Quinn found herself shivering in the dark on the concrete stoop. Finger poised over the door bell, feeling like she was about to throw up the cheeseburger and fries she ate on the ride over. She pushed the button anyway and seconds later the door swung open.

"Zach."

"Quinn," he replied curtly, eyeing the young blond up and down until he landed on the protruding baby bump. He looked beyond Quinn to the young wheelchair bound man sitting in the driveway. "He'll need to go through the garage. I'll go open the door."

Quinn nodded appreciatively, then turned to walk down the steps toward Artie. "Follow me," she instructed, leading the way through the garage and into the house where they met up with the younger looking man who had answered the door.

"You must be Artie?" he greeted politely, holding out his hand. "I'm Zach."

"Nice to meet you Zach," Artie replied, returning the gesture.

The group moved from the laundry room, into a semi-private family area on the lowest floor of the modest tri-level. There was a sofa sleeper already made up, with extra blankets and pillows on the love seat to the left of it.

"The bathroom is over there," Zach stated, pointing over to the open door in the right corner of the room. "Everything was delivered a few hours ago," he added, regarding Quinn exclusively. She gave a nod of approval, then moved out of Artie's way so he could inspect the handiwork for himself. He immediately noticed was the top of the line equipment---a temporary support attached to the toilet, equivalent to the permanent grab bars he had strategically placed around his room back at home and a removable bench seat sitting in the middle of the shower stall.

"The fit might be a little tight," Zach deduced, eye-balling the width of Artie's chair while mentally comparing it to the size of the room.

Artie took a quick moment of contemplation before slowly backing in. Once his knuckles cleared the doorway, he easily made it back to where the the shower was located. There was even enough room for him to swivel to the side and line up flush with the angled door of the stall. "Perfect," he confirmed with a gracious grin.

But it wasn't, and Quinn could tell. "I'm sorry it won't be as efficient as your stuff, but it was the best we could get on such short notice," she sighed apologetically.

"Are you kidding? This'll work out great," Artie managed to reply even though he was still reeling from this act of generosity. "Thanks," he added a beat later, looking up at Zach.

"Well Quinn made all of the arrangements, I just had to be here for the delivery," Zach admitted with a casual air. "Which reminds me, they said they'd be back to pick it all of this stuff up by noon on Sunday."

Quinn nodded affirmatively. They wouldn't be needing it anymore. "And Avery?"

"She won't be back until late Sunday night," Zach answered, trying to sound casual.

"We'll be long gone by then," Quinn assured him. "She won't even know we were here."

After what felt like hours, Zach broke the uncomfortable silence that had fallen over the two of them. "These stairs lead up to the living and dinning rooms and the kitchen," he mentioned as a courtesy, trying hard to avoid the awkwardness of making eye contact with Artie.

"We brought our own food." Quinn ignored the comment all together and pointed to the grocery bags she'd placed on the coffee table in the corner when they arrived.

Zach gave a short nod. "Spare fridge is in the laundry room," he said, motioning with his chin. "There is also a microwave and extra toaster on one of the shelves." He waited for Quinn's response then glanced cautiously between her and Artie. "The remotes are on the entertainment center and dvds are in the cabinet. I'll be upstairs is you need anything else."

"Thanks Zach," Quinn called out sincerely.

"You're welcome," he replied, accepting her awkward attempt at a hug. "Goodnight."

Artie waited until Zach disappeared from view before speaking. "Your brother-in-law seems pretty cool."

"He's married to my sister---in my book, that would make him a saint," she quipped playfully.

Artie let out a small chuckle. Just as quickly as the laughter came though, his expression turned serious. "I really appreciate the two of you doing all of this for me," he stated, his eyes scanning over the room again.

"Artie, this was nothing," she insisted. And it wasn't, not compared to everything he and his family had done for her in the past few months.

"But it is Quinn," he countered, a bit self-consciously. "Not many people would concoct a plan with her estranged brother-in-law to send his wife, her sister, to a spa for the weekend all so her handicapped friend would have a place to stay where he wouldn't have to endure the humiliation of putting his disability on display for their friends or their competition to see."

He was winded and flushed after his rant, but Quinn thought he looked completely adorable. "It was so worth it Artie," she replied sincerely, taking a seat across from him on the edge of the couch mattress as she reached out, "just to have you here with us."

Artie's blushed intensified. He looked at their clasped hands and gave a timid shrug. "Well, if there's anything I can ever do to repay you---."

As his words drifted off into the air, she gave his fingers a gentle squeeze. How can he seriously think there might be anything left him to do for her that hasn't already been done. But maybe---

"There is actually." Artie looked up to find Quinn smiling playfully at him and he immediately became puzzled. "You can sing your heart out tomorrow and rock that guitar solo like it's no body's business---and get us to nationals."

A wide grin broke out across his lips, matching hers. "I can do that," Artie replied confidently.

And he did.

Artie and Quinn missed watching the first 25 acts on Friday night, but the competition on Saturday, was fierce. And while New Directions performed the best they'd ever had, the early time slot they were allotted for that day, gave them no other option but to sit around and size up the other thirty-something performances that were to follow.

"Well, I don't think number 43 had nearly as much pizazz as us and number 50 was downright awful," Rachel announced as she was finishing up writing the last of her notes in the margin of the program. She looked up and smiled at her miserable team members. "Numbers 55 and 57 were---."

"Can somebody please stop feedin' the meter?" Mercedes belted out, very pointedly looking at Rachel. "Girl, you just gotta chill."

"Mercedes has a point Rachel," Quinn conceded, her tone overly gentle as to not upset their star. "There's really no point in critiquing every act ourselves. We did our best, now it's up to the judges."

"Amen," Puck proclaimed dramatically. "Now can we please get the hell outta here and get something to eat. Lunch passed us up hours ago and I think my stomach is about to devour my intestines."

Will let out a small chuckle. "Food sounds good," he agreed as he glanced over at Emma who just smiled and nodded. "Any suggestions?"

"Well we are in Chicago Mr. Shue," Artie pointed out with a smirk.

Will shrugged and grinned, "Pizza it is."

It took a while to find a restaurant that could accommodate a party of nearly twenty and a wheelchair. But when they did, they spent the rest of the evening in a semi-private room, celebrating a job well done.

It bothered Artie that Quinn wouldn't be able to spend as much time with the other girls because of him and their unique lodging arrangements. She had already missed out on the bus ride there, their first night in the city and all that weird bonding stuff that goes on when a bunch of teenaged girls bunk together in the same room. His fears were put to rest when he noticed how easily they were all getting along. Quinn was currently laughing hysterically at something Tina said. Artie's ease turned to suspicion though, when he began wondering if that something had to do with him.

Artie was most in his element when he was up on stage performing, Quinn mused. She understood his desire for positive attention, his desire to be noticed for something outside just being a kid in a wheelchair. And he was good. So good that it upset Quinn that the Abrams had to miss his numbers. Sure they gave him extra money to purchase a professionally recorded dvd copy of the competition, but there was just something about seeing it live, experiencing it first hand. Hours later and it still gave Quinn goosebumps at how amazing he sounded. Currently, Artie was joking around with Finn, Puck and Matt. For a kid who didn't have many friends growing up, he sure knew how to hold his own in this group.

"Please guys, just come back with us for a little bit," Brittany begged as she pouted and batted her long eye lashes at Quinn, then sat on Artie's lap to prevent him from moving.

"Sorry Brit, but we really have to get back," Quinn replied regretfully, then tugged at Brittany's arms to get her off of Artie, "we still have a forty-five minute drive ahead of us."

"But we'll be back first thing tomorrow morning," Artie added, helping the process along with a gentle nudge to Brittany's back.

"Actually, you guys can all sleep in tomorrow," Mr. Shuster said suggestively. "As long as our group is checked in by noon, and I can do that---we don't have to be back at the auditorium until the three o'clock awards ceremony." Will didn't have to look in Rachel's direction, but it was definitely implied, "Unless of course, you want to watch the last of acts perform."

It was obvious by the amount of frowns and head shakes that followed, that was not something the kids were actually considering---well except maybe for one. "You two. All of us. Tomorrow 9am sharp. Breakfast. Diner on the corner next to the school." Even speaking in code, Puck was remarkably understandable. He smirked and nodded to himself. "Then we take this town on." Will chuckled as he clapped Noah on the shoulder. He glanced over at Artie and Quinn with an expectant look on his face. Without the need for conformation from the other, they both nodded.

The ride back was filled with music and singing and laughter, but surprisingly, not very much talking. Zach had given Quinn the garage code so they could slip in quietly on their own. Once inside, Quinn turned on the lights and tv while Artie headed straight for his suitcase. "If you want, you can use the bathroom first," he looked up and offered politely.

"No, you can go ahead," she replied, stifling a yawn.

"Are you sure?" he asked skeptically, mentally noting how tired she looked. "I'll be a while."

Quinn softened at his consideration. "Take your time Artie. I can use the one upstairs to change in," she said insistently. "Besides, I think I'm going to have some crackers and tea and see if that'll sooth this heartburn." There was a pause as Quinn frowned and placed her hand over her chest. "Would you like some?"

"Heartburn?" he quipped playfully.

Quinn tried to feign annoyance by rolling her eyes at him, but that only succeeded in making him grin even wider. "No ya big goof. Tea?"

He chuckled, "Sure, that sounds great."

Artie tried to hurry, but there were certain aspects of his nightly routine that you just couldn't rush, and in an unfamiliar and cramped environment, things took even longer. It was well after ten before he emerged from the bathroom, surprised that Quinn hadn't come knocking on the door to check on him after an hour---until he opened the door.

There, in the middle of the sofa mattress was Quinn, propped up on extra pillows and slumbering softly, still dressed in her leggings and baby-doll dress. Instead of waking her to reclaim his temporary bed, Artie maneuvered around to the side and gently pried the half empty mug of tea from her hand. He pulled the blanket up to cover her as best he could, then set out to turn off the all the lights and tv, before settling himself on the smaller sofa for the night.

Artie wasn't sure if the kink in his neck was from looking up the tall buildings of downtown Chicago all afternoon, or from sleeping on tiny love seat the night before. Quinn berated herself for falling asleep on the sofa bed, then scolded Artie for not waking her up, making it a point to mention how he was the one who was supposed to be benefiting from the special foam pad she'd requested from the medical supply store that was supposed to prevent unwanted pressure points from occurring. And that little voice in the back of his mind that kept reminding him how he slept for seven hours straight without shifting position once, hadn't been helping either.

But all of those thoughts were gone right now. All Artie Abrams could think of was how sweaty his hands were. He briefly considered putting his gloves back on, but as Kurt so generously pointed out, that would look tacky. And one would not want to look tacky while waiting to find out if they'd made it to the finals of the Midwest Show Choir Regional Championships.

"And now, in no particular order, we announce the winners of tonight's competition." Only the top five lucky groups would be attending nationals in May. The members of the McKinley High glee club took the stage with the nine other semi-finalists.

As the judges started reading off the finalists, Artie felt a cool, slender hand slip into his. He briefly considered pulling away, but when the judges announced Vocal Adrenaline in the third slot and the fingers coiled around desperately, he held on for dear life. Slot four went to some school in Indiana and the pressure increased.

"And our fifth and final spot goes to---," the waiting was excruciating---.

Artie didn't actually hear the result, just the screaming that came from somewhere behind him and the feel of Quinn's limp hand falling from his grasp. It wasn't until two enthusiastic arms were thrown around his neck did he realize---

New Directions was going to Nationals.


	10. Chapter 10

_**An authors note---Two in just two days---how's that for dedication? Lots of wonderful responses to the last chapter. Love to see those reviews coming in, as well as the alerts and favorites. Thank you all so much. This chapter is shorter, but a little bit fluffier than the last, with lots of cute bonding moments---over some slightly serious matters, of course. Another tribute to the gorgeous Kevin in this one, as well as some references to Artie's back-story from my previous fic. **_

**_Disclaimer---Glee is the property of FOX, the creators and the writers. _**

**_Lean on Me_**

It was a lazy Sunday afternoon.

"What'cha two up to?" Artie asked with a smile, as he pulled up next to the giggling pair seated on the couch.

"Picking out baby names," Abbey replied with a casual flip of the page.

"Well actually Abbey's picking out names," Quinn clarified, frowning as she glanced down at the very different book in her hands. "I trying to familiarize myself with the third trimester as well as differentiate between Braxton-Hicks contractions and the actual contractions of labor."

Mrs. Abrams walked into the room at that moment and let out a small chuckle. "Oh Honey, you'll definitely know the difference," she quipped playfully. But when Quinn's eyes widened in alarm, Alicia stepped over to her, placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, and whispered into her ear, "And I'll be right there to help you through it." It was then that Quinn realized that the best decision she'd made in this pregnancy so far, was to choose Mrs. Abrams to be her labor coach.

Quinn flashed an appreciative smile and Alicia returned the gesture as she straightened. "Now as for names, I'm really not sure you want Abbey helping you in that department."

"Why not?" the precocious child demanded.

"Did you forget that you named one of you baby dolls Blueberry?" Artie asked teasingly.

"That's when I was a little girl," Abbey stated in defense.

Artie chuckled. "Abbs, it was just last year."

"When I wasn't even seven yet," she countered, determinately locking eyes with her oldest brother. "I'm gonna be eight next month Artie."

"Yeah I know," he sighed, the slightest hint of sadness evident in his voice. "You're almost to big to be called Squirt, and you probably won't like bedtime stories anymore, and---."

"I-I didn't say that," Abbey cut in, stammering nervously. The look of relief that washed over Artie's face made Quinn smile. "I just meant that I'm old enough now to know that Blueberry isn't a propriate name for a real baby."

They all smiled at the adorableness that was Abbey. "What name would you pick then?" Quinn asked in all seriousness. For some reason they were still on the the comical preface pages of the book, names hadn't even come into play yet.

Abbey shrugged as she crossed her arms over her chest and thought contemplatively. "Violet," she answered a moment later, "or Ruby."

"Abbs, Violet and Ruby are Gramma and Grandpa's dogs names," Artie pointed out, as gently as he could without sounding condescending.

"But they're pretty names," she offered with an innocent smile, "and I like those colors."

There was really no arguing with that. "At least they're actual names Artie," Quinn rallied in Abbey's defense. "Finn wanted to name the baby Drizzle---." There was a pause as all the memories of the past almost seven months came flooding back. Quinn's smile fell, but she still managed to finish her thought,"---when he thought she was his."

Artie decided it was best not to even attempt a response to that. "What has Puck contributed so far?" he asked instead.

"Nothing helpful," Quinn replied, rolling her eyes in annoyance. "And every time he does mention one, I can't help but wonder if it's the name of someone he's fooled around with." She shuttered at the thought, then remembered who was in the room with her and Artie.

Alicia brushed off Quinn's apologetic stare and opted to continue the conversation before Abbey had a change to ask any questions. "If you need any help picking out a name Quinn, you could always ask Artie," she suggested, glancing in her sons direction. "He's very good at naming babies."

"He named me," Abbey beamed, "first _and_ middle names."

"Really?" Quinn queried, flashing an amused smirk at Artie.

Alicia nodded and grinned at the blush their lighthearted fun had produced. "And he was only eight years old," she added, regarding him proudly.

"I was almost nine Mom," Artie corrected, rolling his eyes and obviously trying to downplay all of the attention. But anyone could see how honored he was to hold this distinction. "I wasn't really that hard. I mean we already knew she was a girl and that her first name had to start with an A," he explained, a teasing lilt to his voice as he glanced up pointedly at his mother. Alicia smiled back and playfully mussed his hair with her hand as she walked pass him. "The only rules I had was to not make her name sound like one of those Cabbage Patch dolls, and to pick a middle initial that wasn't J, T or G."

Abbey bounced up on her knees. "What's your middle name Quinn?" she asked excitedly.

Quinn smiled down at the little as she answered, "Alexandria."

"Wow, that's so pretty," Abbey sighed dreamily.

"That was one of Artie's picks," Alicia recalled, looking over at her son for confirmation.

"Alexandria, Ashley and Anna." There was a pause as Artie lowered his head in embarrassment, he felt like such a girl right now. He gave a timid shrug before continuing. "We wanted to see what she looked like before we settled on a name," he peered sideways, grinning at his baby sister, "but Abbey was always my favorite."

It was perfect, that much was for sure. Quinn couldn't see the youngest Abrams with any other name except for the one Artie gave her. There was one lingering question though, "Why Hope?"

"Well, it was an initial that wasn't taken yet," Artie quipped without missing a beat. His smile softened a little and he pursed his lips together. "Because that's what she was---hope," he added, his voice now soft and a little bit wistful. "Hope that our future would be brighter."

A flood of emotion threatened to choke Quinn. How could he have thought of something so profound and beautiful at such a young age. She decided he must have been born philosophical. Or maybe it was being injured in that horrific accident that made him age far beyond his tender years. Either way, it only hastened the rate at which the moisture began pooling in her eyes.

Luckily Artie hadn't noticed. Nor had he seen his mother discretely wipe the tears from her own eyes. He was still holding Abbey's gaze. "Do you wanna look at my baby books Quinn?" the little voice suddenly asked out of the blue.

"Sure," she replied, thankful for the distraction.

Alicia must have been too. "Well you kids have fun," she announced as she stood from her perch on the arm of the couch. "I'm going to start dinner." Artie followed her with his eyes and they shared a meaningful smile before she left the room. Quinn swore that if pictures were worth a thousand words, the interactions between this mother and son must be priceless.

Artie avoided Quinn's intense gaze as he twisted to look over his shoulder. What he saw made him chuckle. "You didn't have to bring all of them Abbey."

"I didn't," she grunted, dropping the heavy load of photo albums on the coffee table. "That was only half," she added, sighing dramatically as she flopped back down on the couch next to Quinn.

"Well that first one is mine," Artie acknowledged, reaching out for the expertly decorated blue book.

"I know," Abbey replied, snatching it up before Artie had a chance to. "But we have to start from very beginning---when Mommy was pregnant with me."

The slight look of apprehension Artie was wearing puzzled Quinn. "That's okay, isn't it?" she asked.

"Yeah sure," he answered a little too quickly and not very convincingly. That much was obvious from the skeptical way Quinn raised her brow. "It's just my mom has this unique way of organizing our photos. She does it not by calendar year, but from birthday to birthday." He paused to glance down at the album in Abbey's hands. "This one has pictures from the year I turned eight---the whole year." Another pause, this one minutely shorter than the last. "It just has some um, kinda graphic shots---not graphic, graphic---just hospital graphic."

"Oh Artie, we don't have to look at those if you don't want to," Quinn began rambling apologetically, "We could just skip them. I mean, your mom probably wasn't even showing then, so---."

"No, it's fine Quinn," Artie cut in with a soft chuckle. "I just wanted to warn you before," he gave a sheepish shrug, "in case that kinda thing bothers you."

Quinn shook her head no, even though she wasn't entirely sure what kind of photos she'd be viewing, or what type of effect they would have on her. They both turned their attention back to Abbey who was sitting with the book on her lap, but she was staring expectantly at Artie. When he didn't immediately respond to what her expression was asking, she patted the space next to her.

Once Artie was settled comfortably with his left arm slung over the back of the couch, behind his sister and Quinn, for added support, Abbey opened the album. There on the first page, was young Artie standing next to what looked to be a brand new bicycle. Quinn was keenly aware that the accident took place a short time after Artie's eighth birthday, but it was still surreal to see him standing on legs that in a few pages, wouldn't work anymore.

"This is obviously my birthday," he quipped playfully as they turned page after page of party filled photos.

"Soccer?" Quinn queried as she looked up from the super cute picture of a fully geared up Artie smiling from the grassy field.

"I was never any good," he replied matter of fact. "But I loved it," there was a moments hesitation followed by a huge grin, "I still do." A vision of the top shelf of unit in Artie's room, filled with soccer memorabilia rushed through Quinn's mind, as did the recollection that this was an outdoor activity Abbey participated in every spring and fall, and probably the only sport that Andy didn't play anymore.

They continued in silence until Abbey got to a page that seemed familiar to Quinn. "Fourth of July," she shrieked excitedly, "I remember that parade." Quinn turned to Artie. "I marched with the OYPAC, the Ohio Youth Performing Arts Company---you were like three groups behind us."

Artie tried his best to remember, but all he was able to recall was how bummed he had been about not being able to ride his bike along side the others in his Cub Scout pack---and of course the week that followed.

"You danced there?" Abbey's awe-filled question snapped Artie back to the present.

Quinn smiled and nodded, "From the time I was three until the summer before high school.

"Why'd you stop?" Abbey pressed.

"Well I didn't stop dancing," Quinn revised her previous answer. "But I was so focused on my cheer leading, that it made it impossible to do both. I had to stop going to the PAC, but I found a really good private studio that I took lessons at,"she looked down at her protruding belly and forced an indifferent shrug, "up until a few months ago."

"Oh." Abbey gave a sad sigh, that was quickly remedied when she turned the next page. "Uncle Tom is so silly," she commented through her giggles as she pointed to a picture of their mothers brother tossing Artie into a family members pool. Quinn happily scanned the rest of the photos, finally landing on the last one on the opposite page---Artie learning how to ride his bike.

She looked up and offered him a friendly smile. Artie grinned back, but Quinn immediately noticed that it didn't quite reach his eyes. An ominous silence hung over them as she realized what was on the other side of that page. "That was Tuesday," Artie stated evenly as if reading her thoughts, "the accident happened on Friday."

"That's how he broke his back," Abbey spoke nonchalantly as she began to turn the page. There were no other details given and Quinn didn't ask. She really wasn't sure what or how much information they had given Abbey, but one thing was for sure, the little girl made no comparison from the little boy running and jumping in the pictures to the brother who couldn't do either of those things. He was simply her Artie.

The pictures themselves, weren't as heartbreaking as Quinn had imagined. In fact, Artie was smiling in each and every one of them. And if it wasn't for the tired eyes, slightly pasty pallor and casted left arm, he would have looked just fine. The shots that Mrs. Abrams could be seen in, told a completely different story. She looked worn and dangerously thin, with worry and guilt etched all over her usually delicate features.

"That was taken about two weeks after." Artie's strong voice startled her a little. "I was finally out of the ICU and this was the first day I could have regular visitors outside of just my parents. My whole family showed up. There were so many people, they had to take shifts. Four at a time for a half hour each." A small chuckled escaped his lips. "I made out with a Game boy, a personal cd player, three sets of Legos, a bunch of books, and more candy and sweets than I could possibly eat."

It wasn't hard, from these pictures or all of the time spent with his family, to see how much Artie was loved.

The next few pages were flipped without comment. Quinn found herself studying, not the main subject of the photos, but the background---namely, Mrs. Abrams. They stopped on one in particular. "That's the day my mom found out she was pregnant," Artie announced, failing to mention that it was also the day his family's worst fears were confirmed. It was then that Quinn really understood what he had been talking about earlier. While Artie would have to live with the mostly physical scars from the accident, Mrs. Abrams mom would always struggle with the emotional ones. Sure, there was still pain and sadness and worry evident in her eyes, but there was also something else---there was hope.

The pictures that followed seemed to be just a little more brighter, more cheerful. Photos of Artie's rehabilitation were next, one particular shot of Artie showing off his first set of wheels, was Quinn's personal favorite, although it did tug deeply at her heartstrings. Then came his homecoming and the holidays. And as his mothers pregnancy progressed, the amount of photos of just the two of them together increased as well.

"I'm next, I'm next," Abbey squealed excitedly once they'd passed the set of Easter pictures.

And sure enough there was newborn Abbey cradled safely in the arms of her doting big brother. The huge toothy grin on his face was priceless as was the pride and wonderment seen in the next shot of him lovingly looking down at her. Quinn began to tear up. While the early block of photos elicited a myriad of emotions within her, from sadness to admiration to happiness and everything in between, these were just simply breathtaking.

A jolt from below quickly brought Quinn back to her own reality. A soft "Oh" escaped her lips and her hands flew to the point of impact. Artie and Abbey looked on in concern. "That was the strongest one yet," Quinn exclaimed with a smile.

"She kicking?" Artie asked.

Quinn nodded a little apprehensively, "Do you want to feel?"

Artie was taken aback, a little surprised that she'd actually offered. "You don't mind do you?" he queried with a childlike excitement that made Quinn melt. She thought it might be awkward to have Artie touching her stomach. The girls in glee club were constantly prodding her, but none of the other boys had, not even Noah. He had yet to even make an attempt to feel his daughter kick. Never cared to learn about the importance of folic acid, or what amniotic fluid was, or how a baby developed inside the womb.

Artie was different though. He was sweet and gentle and probably knew more about pregnancy than most doctors did---from the extensive research he'd done when his mother was pregnant, of course.

It was then, as she watched her friends grin widen and eyes sparkle brighter every time her daughter made contact with his palm, that she wished every guy could be just like Artie Abrams.


	11. Chapter 11

_**An authors note---The response to the last chapter was absolutely wonderful. Welcome to those new readers just finding this story, and thank you to those who have stuck with it since the very beginning. Much appreciation to all. I've been dropping little crumbs along the way, and in this chapter we'll finally get to know more about a certain background character. **_

**_Disclaimer---Glee is the property of FOX, the creators and the writers. _**

**_Lean on Me_**

"God bless you," Quinn repeated. It had to have been the twentieth time in the past three minutes with no sign of reprieve---not that she was counting or anything.

"Thanks," he replied. Again. And sneezed. Again.

"Are you sure you're alright Artie?" she asked, concern lacing her voice.

"Fine," he sniffled, then immediately started to cough. "Just my allergies acting up."

Quinn swirled her spoon around in her cereal, paused thoughtfully, and looked over at him. "What exactly are you allergic to?"

"Everything," he quipped dryly. Or wetly, since his phlegm laden cough had returned with a vengeance. He forced a small smile and rubbed his red, itchy eyes from under his glasses. "Grass, pollen, ragweed, dust, mold, pet dander and I have a sensitivity to certain additives used in laundry detergents, body soaps---." He proceeded to sneeze, cough and sniffle simultaneously.

"Geeze, is that all?" Quinn muttered sarcastically as she sighed. "I'm sorry Artie."

"That I have allergies? Yeah, me too," he teased lightly, knowing full well that wasn't exactly why she was apologizing. "At least they're mainly seasonal though. Can you imagine being allergic to food? I'd probably die of starvation if I couldn't eat peanut butter or ice cream."

Ever the optimist. Quinn returned the smile Artie was giving her, but it still didn't make her feel any better---especially because she felt partly to blame for him being so miserable.

"Well, I just dropped our little uninvited guest off at Mrs. Mays house. He should be on his way to a no-kill shelter later this afternoon," Alicia announced as soon as she walked into the kitchen.

"Abbey should be happy to hear that," Artie replied, his lips twitching up in a slight smirk.

Alicia smiled back at him, although hers held that sympathetically maternal concern that is present any time ones child is sick. "How are you feeling Sweetie?" she asked, running her fingers gently over Artie's forehead and cheeks---but only after her hands were thoroughly washed of course.

"Great," he answered, a little too brightly to sound convincing. And after the rough night they had, Alicia would have been skeptical anyway. "Okay, maybe not great," Artie sheepishly amended, "but definitely better."

Alicia nodded approvingly as she ran a comforting hand up and down his back. "You sound a little better too."

Wrinkling his itchy nose, Artie gave a half shrug and looked up at his mother. "I only woke up twice last night to use my inhalers."

"Inhalers?" Quinn queried anxiously, pushing the now soggy bowl of cereal away from her.

"Artie had a pretty bad asthma attack last night," Alicia stated, trying to sound casual. But undertones of worry were definitely evident as she held her sons gaze. "Took a while to get it under control."

"You have asthma too?" Quinn gasped incredulously. _How did she not know this?_

"Allergy induced," Mrs. Abrams answered for him, which was just as well since Artie was currently in the throes of another coughing fit. "He's learned to manage it really well, and hasn't had an attack like this since he was about thirteen." Alicia waited for Artie's nod of confirmation, but her eyes were asking if he was okay. Once she was satisfied with his wordless answer, she continued. "Cats are by far, his biggest trigger. It just takes a few minutes of being around them before his eyes start to water and get itchy and he's sneezing and coughing. That's when the wheezing usually starts and we know we're in trouble." She looked back at Artie. "That cat was in your room for probably a day and a half if not longer---."

"God, I am so sorry," Quinn cut in, her face crumpling with guilt. "I should have told someone as soon as I found out Abbey was hiding that cat."

"Quinn, it's no body's fault. Really," Artie reasoned, pausing only to wipe his runny nose with a tissue. "Abbey knows I'm allergic which is why she was keeping it in the garage in the first place. Besides, you both thought it had run away sometime Saturday morning."

"But it didn't run away. It got inside and now you're sick," she countered defensively.

"How could anyone have known that a stray cat would get in the house, and magically find it's way into the bedroom of the only person here whose allergic?" he quipped rhetorically, then let out a soft chuckle. Quinn would have laughed along with him, but she really didn't find the situation all that amusing. Maybe he was becoming delusional due to the high levels of antihistamines and nasal decongestants coursing through his bloodstream. "This probably would have happened regardless," Artie added only after he painfully cleared his throat. "Remember? I did spent most of the weekend outside."

Quinn supposed that could be true. With the string of unseasonably warm weather they'd been having over the past few weeks, it was possible that the early bloom that was taking place might affect Artie. But so quickly and this severe? No, that was definitely the cat---and that was all on her and Abbey.

"What's up?" Andy asked the subdued looking bunch sitting around the table.

Mrs. Abrams eyed her younger son, pleasantly surprised that he was up and dressed at an almost decent hour. "Where are you off to?" she questioned back.

"Bowling, remember?" he returned with a hint of sarcasm.

Alicia's shoulders slumped and she let out a defeated, as well as tired sounding sigh. "Oh Andy, I'm sorry. We can't go today."

"Why?"

"Because your brother is sick."

Andy frowned at Artie. "So?"

"So, we can't go," Alicia, not liking the tone her younger son was taking with her, returned firmly.

"But Mom---you promised," he countered, just short of a whine.

"I know I did honey, but that was before a stray cat found it's way into Artie's room and nested there for two days," Mrs. Abrams admitted with a heavy heart. "I've got to scrub that room from top to bottom today, and make sure there's no lingering cat hair or dander---or anything else---that could make your brother sicker."

"How long is that gonna take?" Andy asked tersely.

"All day if it ensures that room is thoroughly clean and safe for him to go back in to," Alicia pointedly held her ground.

"Unbelievable," Andy grunted, shoving an empty kitchen chair roughly into the table. "The first day of spring break and already it sucks." He glared menacingly at Artie as he added, "You always ruin everything," before stalking off.

"Andrew Thomas," Mrs. Abrams called out, but it was pointless, he was already upstairs. The slamming of his bedroom door seconds later was confirmation of that.

"Mom, just take them," Artie's tired voice was pleading.

Quinn looked on disapprovingly. No matter what Andy did or said, or how bad he was, Artie was the first to dismiss it. This made her furious for the most part, and this time was no exception.

"I have to clean your room first," Alicia gently reminded him.

"I know," he managed to gasp out before having to clear his throat again. "But I'll be fine by myself today."

Unfortunately Artie's attempt at reassuring his mother was unconvincing at best. Quinn could see the look of skepticism she was giving him. "I'm not able to bowl right now anyway Mrs. Abrams," she stated, emphasizing her point with a loving pat to her stomach, "I can stay home with Artie." She may not have always agreed with the decisions that he made, again letting Andy get a free ride for his behavior, but she'd always be there to support her friend.

Artie on the other hand, wanted to object, but decided against it. Instead, he offered Quinn an appreciative smile and added, "Andy and Abbey were really looking forward to going bowling, Mom." He had been too actually, especially after how excited Quinn got when he told her that yes, he could in fact, bowl.

Alicia's expression softened, but she was still hesitant. "Where is our little future animal rescuer anyway?" she asked, changing the subject to lighten the mood a little. "I sent her to rinse off in the shower before I left to drop off the cat."

Quinn gave a small shrug and shook her head. "She hasn't come back down yet."

Artie knew how upset Abbey usually gets when he's sick---the worst being a year ago January, when a nasty bladder infection sent him to the hospital for three days---this time though, it was the result of something she did. "Maybe I should go up and check on her," Artie offered out of sudden concern and brooding guilt.

"You are not going anywhere but into that family room young man," Alicia instructed with a playful smile.

"But I---."

"I'll get everything you might need and bring it to you," she cut in, looking over to where he was motioning in the direction of his room. She did not want him anywhere near there until she was done cleaning. "Now, go park your butt on that couch."

Artie couldn't hide the small smirk that was forming as he nodded and backed away from the table. Quinn lingered at the table a few seconds before standing up. "I'll help you," she kindly offered to Mrs. Abrams. Alicia gave a grateful nod in return and looped her arm around Quinn's shoulders as they walked together to Artie's room.

Quinn was quick to collect what she needed and get it to Artie. She wasn't completely convinced he wouldn't try to make it upstairs to talk to Abbey. As it turned out though, he'd barely even made it into the family room.

"Hey," she greeted as she cautiously stepped over to him. Artie lifted his heavy head from the hand it was resting on and forced a smile. Her gaze followed his to the plastic storage container clutched against her chest. Quinn had almost laughed out loud when Mrs. Abrams pulled the drawer completely out of the bedside table---until she looked inside to find it filled with different types of medication and supplies. She was currently carrying less than half.

There were several inhalers to choose from, all in different shapes, sizes, or colors. Quinn lowered the box to his lap. "Your mom said it was probably time for these. Which one do you need?" she asked, noting how the soft whistling sound that could be detected in his breathing just a few minutes ago, had quickly evolved into a full blown wheeze. Mrs. Abrams definitely knew her son.

"The blue one," Artie managed to answer and grab the correct inhaler simultaneously. There was a puff, pause, cough, followed by a puff, choke, pause, cough, gasp, that made Quinn wince. She watched, waiting anxiously for his breathing to even out. It took a while, but soon the effort to take in air seemed to lessen a bit.

"Thanks," Artie shot over his left shoulder as he tossed his inhaler back into the container. When she didn't make an attempt to move or even respond, he let out a irritated sigh. "I don't need a babysitter Quinn."

"Oh really?" she asked incredulously, "Because I specifically remember your mother telling you to do something." Artie scolded puppy expression immediately replaced Quinn's mock indignant glare with a playful glint. "You. Couch. Now."

Artie stifled a grinning yawn and nodded submissively. Quinn busied herself with grabbing some items from storage drawer under the coffee table while he tiredly transferred to the couch. She placed the pillow against the arm and waited as the laborious task of situating himself commenced, before laying the blanket over him. Then she smiled to herself.

Artie was asleep before his head even hit the pillow.

The bright light streaming through the window forced reluctant eyes to open. "Mom," Artie croaked hoarsely. "Mom?" When there was no answer the second time, he pushed up onto his elbows and tried to call a little louder. After only a minute or so, the simple task of holding this position became too much for Artie and he flopped back onto the pillow.

A few moments later, a blur of color appeared before him. "You are awake. I thought I heard you say something," the chipper voice stated. _Quinn._

"Hey Quinn, can you get my mom?" Artie asked groggily.

"She went to the store," was the simple reply.

He nodded. "Can you hand me my glasses?" At least then he'd be able to see the pretty face of the girl he was talking to. The long pause that followed his request was unexpected. "Quinn?"

"Yeah, sorry---they're not where I left them," she answered, her eyes scouring the room.

"Where exactly did you leave them?" he asked as he propped himself back up on his elbows and squinted.

"Right here on the seat of your chair so you could easily reach them," Quinn explained anxiously, "but that's not here either."

"Maybe Abbey moved them," Artie suggested.

Quinn began to shake her head, but stopped short when she remembered he probably wouldn't be able to make out that gesture anyway. "She's with your mom---and Andy's went to a friends house, I think."

"Figures," Artie muttered as the simple task of holding himself up became too strenuous and he flopped back onto the pillow.

And then it occurred to her. It must have been Andy. "Why would he do something like that?" Quinn asked incredulously.

"Because he can," Artie quipped with an indifferent shrug, but his expression quickly clouded. "Andy has issues---with me in particular."

Quinn was acutely aware of said issues, but that fact alone didn't excuse his actions or behavior. "That doesn't make it right," she seethed angrily.

Artie's lips twisted into a sideways smirk. "Andy used to take my glasses all the time, when it was the only thing I needed---," there was a slight hesitation in his voice as he began to chew on his bottom lip. "The chair just became a bigger, better target, I guess."

"He's done this before?," Quinn asked defensively.

Artie nodded. "But he usually just moves it out of my reach. He's never actually taken it?"

"We'll find it," Quinn assured him with a forced smile, even though she felt like putting her fist through a wall---or Andy. "Do you have another pair of glasses?" she asked first.

Artie shook his head no. "Broken."

_Great._ Quinn took in a steadying breath. "Well, Andy probably hid your chair somewhere in the house. I can go look for it," she offered, but quickly came up with an alternative, "Or I can go get your spare---."

"No Quinn, I don't want you carrying that all the way downstairs," Artie cut in emphatically. And there was really no point in having access to another chair if he couldn't see where the heck he was going. "You said my mom ran to the store." He was pretty sure Quinn nodded. "She should be home soon, I'll just wait for her."

_This was just wrong on so many levels. _Quinn's blood began to boil and she started to pace. "I don't understand how he could take your only means of mobility, as well as your glasses, and just leave you here helpless on---." With the sudden eruption of a rant, Quinn didn't catch her terminology slip until it was too late. "Artie, I'm sorry. I didn't mean that you're helpless---just stranded. He left you---."

"It's okay Quinn. I am helpless." Her heart clenched tightly. But there was a slight suggestiveness to his tone. And then of course, there was that sly smirk that followed, "At your complete and utter mercy."

It drove her crazy, how he could take serious or sad moment and turn it around---and make her smile.

Playing along, Quinn stepped in front of him and pointedly placed her hands on her hips. "Complete mercy, hmm?" she teased lightly, making his eyes widen with mock fear. Even bloodshot and puffy, they were the most spectacular pair of blue eyes she'd ever seen. Quinn smiled down at him. "Okay, but since I think you've already been punished enough today, how about I just bring you something from the kitchen?"

Artie hated being dependent on others, but his throat was really dry and scratchy, and he didn't know how much longer his mom would be gone. "Would you mind getting me a Popsicle, please?"

Quinn had to stifle a laugh, Artie's mannerisms were just too adorable for words. "What flavor?" she queried playfully.

"Anything but orange," he quipped in reply. Everyone at McKinley high knew orange was the most popular flavor for a slushy facial.

Quinn allowed herself a small giggle this time. "Okay," she paused for a thoughtful moment, "but only if I can have one too."

Artie lifted his fingers to gently tap on Quinn's rounded belly, the only part of her close enough to actually make out or reach. "You can have as many as you want."

Quinn gasped in mock indignation and playfully swatted at Artie's chest. All animosity she'd felt previously, simply slipping away---

Until the front door opened shortly after 3pm.

"Hey Quinn," Andy greeted the girl rushing into the foyer, as he slowly pushed the hijacked chair in front of him. "What do you call a crippled bat?" He didn't wait for an answer, not that he was expecting one. "Artie Abrams."

"You think you're funny?" she asked incredulously.

"Hysterical," he snickered back.

Quinn shook her head in disgust. "God Andy, how can you be so mean?"

"Why do you care?"

"Because I do," she confessed easily. "I care a lot about Artie, and this family."

"Whatever," he dismissed, leaving the chair in the middle of the hallway as he brushed past Quinn.

"I thought you of all people would understand what it's like for him." Her words made Andy freeze, she wasn't going to let him off easily like eveyrone else. "What it's like to be teased and ridiculed for something you can't control."

"I never get teased," he countered boastfully, spinning on his heel to face her.

"Why, because you're a jock?" Quinn's pointed query made him smirk. "Only being a jock doesn't change the fact that you are also dyslexic, does it?"

Andy eyes narrowed. She knew and that jerk of a brother probably told her. "I don't know what you're talking about," he lied, and started walking away again.

Quinn stepped in time with him. "I'm not stupid Andy. I noticed some things early on and asked your mom." He came to another halt, an angry blush creeping up his neck this time. "She's not ashamed of either of her sons disabilities."

"I'm nothing like my brother," Andy spat angrily.

"No you're not," Quinn returned, using the double meaning of her words to her full advantage. "You're lucky you have a disability that isn't on display for the whole world to see. One that doesn't effect every single aspect of your daily life. One you can just hide it or pretend that it simply doesn't exist. Artie doesn't have that luxury." She must have hit a nerve because Andy's features softened ever so slightly. "But he also doesn't let it get him down. He never takes his frustration out on other people. He's not resentful or angry. He doesn't make excuses---."

"You don't know anything about me," he cut in defiantly, but made no attempt to move.

Another nerve. Quinn could sense she was getting through. "I know you have a brother who really loves you. One who defends you no matter what horrible things you say about or do to him." She paused to take in a breath and consider her next choice of words carefully. "But what you did to him today Andy, that was unforgivable. You took the one thing away from him, that makes him able." Quinn thought about adding a side note about Artie's need for his glasses, but decided to pass.

Andy discretely glanced over to the pillow and blanket rumpled on the currently unoccupied couch. "Your mom had to take him to the doctor," Quinn explained casually, even though she was churning with worry on the inside. "He started running a fever around lunch time."

Andy gave only a curt nod of acknowledgement as he turned in the opposite direction and headed up the stairs, looking up first to see that Artie's spare chair was indeed gone, confirming Quinn's story. Feeling somewhat defeated, she stepped behind Artie's chair and prepared to return it safely to the family room. "They were coming to pick me up when it happened." Quinn spun around at the sound of Andy's voice and looked up at him. "From a party I wasn't even supposed to be allowed to go to," he added somberly.

He must have been talking about the accident. Quinn felt a tightness in her chest. "Andy, that wasn't your fault."

"I know, and I wasn't saying it was," he barked defensively, even though on the inside, he'd always felt it was. But Artie pleaded with their mother to let Andy go that day, even after the younger boy flushed his brothers baseball down the toilet. The act that started the monumental chain of events that followed. "It's just---the stupid idiot always takes the blame for everything. So, it's easier to blame him for everything."

There was obviously more to that story, but Quinn didn't press. Instead, she just offered Andy a warm smile. "Well now maybe it's time for you to grow up and own up to your actions." And with that, she left the room.

For the second time that day, Artie was roused by a brightness streaming into the room. But this particular light wasn't coming from the outside this time, it was coming from the television, as was the repetitive sound of machine gun fire. He glanced down to find his glasses folded neatly on his chest. He wasn't sure how they'd got there or how long he'd been out this time. The last thing he remembered was trying to choke down the torpedo sized antibiotic caplet and bitter cough syrup his doctor had prescribed for the nasty bout of bronchitis that was currently accompanying his allergy attack.

"You awake?" The question startled Artie. He shoved his glassed onto his face so he could see his brother sitting on the coffee table, staring over his shoulder at him.

"Not really," Artie answered warily. And within seconds, Andy was standing in front of him, holding his arm out for his brother to grasp.

"Good." Wordlessly but equally as hesitant, Artie accepted the offer, and grabbed hold of Andy's arm with his right hand, while his left dragged his legs off the couch and onto the floor. A game controller was unceremoniously dropped into Artie's lap, before he was even completely upright. A peace offering gesture made by Andy. "Now maybe I can finally reclaim my title as champion."

Artie welcomed the challenge and smirked, "Bring it on little brother."

_**ANx2---sorry, I accidentally posted last night(that what I get for doing this at 1:30 in the morning) without all of the edits complete. Nothing monumental, but I wanted to re-post the chapter with them in. Okay, off to watch the Glee cast on Oprah! **_


	12. Chapter 12

_**An authors note---I swear you guys have seriously made me the happiest person on the planet with the best, and largest response to a chapter yet. WOW. Thanks a million. This chapter is on the shorter side because the next one is pretty long and detailed. You'll see what I mean after you read it. **_

**_Disclaimer---Glee is the property of FOX, the creators and the writers. _**

**_Lean on Me_**

Artie glanced up at Quinn mid-spin. "Need a break?"

"No, I'm fine," she answered, completing that maneuver and immediately heading into the next one.

"You should really sit down Quinn," he reminded her as they swayed together in time to the music.

Quinn smiled at his concern. "Really Artie, I'm fine", she assured him and continued with their routine.

Artie wasn't all that convinced and took the slight break in both music and Quinn's attention to flash Mr. Schuester a discrete hand gesture. He nodded back to the boy and called out, "Okay, let's take five everybody."

While she took the time to fix her loose ponytail, Artie was thinking of ways to get Quinn to rest. "Here," he offered, patting his lap, "take a seat."

"You can't be serious Artie," Quinn stated, glaring at him incredulously. "If I sit down on your lap I might break your chair---or worse, your legs."

Artie let out a playfull chuckle. "I'm not that fragile Quinn."

"Maybe not," she conceded with a pointed shrug, "but I am definitely that heavy."

With a slight frown of disappointment, Artie scanned backstage for an alternative. He spotted a discarded chair behind a stack of ladders, retrieved it, and set it down next to Quinn. "There, now you can put your feet up here," he stated, patting his thigh again.

Quinn looked at him skeptically as she sat down. "But Artie, you hate feet."

"I hate bare feet," he corrected with a pointed smirk. "You still have your socks on."

Quinn glanced down at her feet clad in the white cotton ankle socks she'd taken to rehearsing in since barely any of her shoes fit anymore. With still some lingering reservation, Quinn gently placed them in his lap. She watched as he wrapped a warm hand protectively over her right ankle, and it left her wondering when he had time to pull off his gloves.

The weight of her legs on him was worrying her. She kept trying to shift and take some of the pressure off his lap. Artie felt Quinn tense again under his hand. "Relax," he told her as he rubbed his thumb over the soft skin on the base of her shin. They locked eyes, his conveying that he knew what she was concerned about, but there was no need to be, he was fine. Artie's thumb slipped under the elastic band of her sock. "Your ankles are a little swollen Quinn," he commented as he switched to check the other foot. "You should probably start limiting your sodium intake," he added, twisting around to fish in his backpack while he still held onto her feet with his left hand, "and drink more water." The bottle was produced and held out to her.

Quinn scowled in protest, "No Artie. I already have to pee like every half-hour as it is." Which reminded her, she should have gone before she sat down. Artie's grin just widened and he extended his hand further.

Mr. Schuester walked up to them while a glaring Quinn was reluctantly sipping from the bottle. "We need to block a few parts of the new choreography. Do you guys mind sitting out for a bit?" Quinn shrugged indifferently, and Artie gave an enthusiastic thumbs up that she found sneakingly suspicious.

After Will left the pair, Quinn took one last swig from the bottle then offered the rest to Artie, who shook his head no. "I don't have cooties Artie," she teased playfully, which rendered him speechless and made him redden like a beet. Quinn giggled. "I just don't want you to dehydrate or anything."

"I'm not gonna dehydrate Quinn," he chuckled dismissively. "I hardly even exerted myself."

"Oh no?" she quipped pointedly and slid her legs from his lap so she could sit up. Reaching her hand out, Quinn pushed his bangs from his forehead with her fingers, to reveal a considerable amount of moisture beading at the hairline.

Artie grinned sheepishly and tried to ignore the 'told you so' look Quinn was giving him. He twisted back around to find his own bottle from lunch, drained the rest in one gulp, then playfully tossed it at Quinn.

A squeal of surprise escaped her lips as the empty bottle bounced off her arm and onto the floor. Artie was able to thwart retaliation by leaning down to grab Quinn's legs and returning them to his lap. She could do nothing else but settle back into her seat and let Artie resume his previous task of rubbing comforting circles into her puffy ankles. Not that she was complaining.

Quinn let her mind drift off as she half watched Mr. Schue direct the rest of the class. A soft chuckle broke her concentration moments later. "What?" she asked, looking up to find Artie motion to her feet. She hadn't even realized she was wiggling her toes like that until he'd pointed it out. "Sorry," she whispered and immediately ceased the movement.

Artie wrinkled his face in confusion. "What'd you apologized for?" he asked curiously. But she didn't reply, just moved to pull her feet away again. Artie stopped her with his hand and scoffed, "Quinn, it shouldn't make you uncomfortable that you can move your toes and I can't move mine." He paused for a moment, then broke into a soft genuine smile. "I like watching you do it. I think it's cute." He gave a shy little shrug and blushed. "You do it all the time at home---it means you're relaxed."

And relaxed Quinn was. Just being in Artie's presence made her feel at ease. She couldn't help return the smile he was giving her as she quirked up a speculative brow and crossed her arms over her chest. "What else do you know about my feet?" she demanded lightheartedly.

Artie's boastful grin turned into a contemplative twist as he began to study Quinn's feet again. "Well, I know you're a trained dancer, so you have incredibly high arches." Stating the obvious, she'd let him have that one. "You wear the same size shoe as my mom---."

Quinn sighed and rolled her eyes, then cut in dramatically, "I used too."

"---because you guys swapped that one time," he finished his thought with a small chuckle of amusement. "You love to have your toe nails freshly painted, and pink is your favorite color. You like wearing sandals, but hate those cheep plastic flip-flop things. You have to wear socks to bed every night because your feet always get cold." Quinn was astonished by how precise his knowledge was---and a little freaked out. "And you have this little ticklish spot---," Artie ran a finger along the side of Quinn's foot, "right there."

Quinn squealed and pulled away. "How do you know _that_?" she gasped breathlessly.

Artie burst out laughing. "Everyone is ticklish there Quinn," he countered, flashing an innocent grin as he quipped, "Well, everyone except me."

"Oh Artie." Quinn groaned at his lame attempt at humor and rolled her eyes. With a mischievous smirk seconds later, she pressed her toes against the frame of his chair and sent him careening backwards.

Now it was Quinn's turn to double over with laughter.

"Hey, you could've knocked me off the stage doin' that," Artie scolded playfully as he pulled back up beside her.

"Well, somebody should learn how to apply his brake every once in a while," she countered pointedly, flicking the lever closest to her, down with her foot.

"You're pretty good at---."

"Hey kids, wassup?"

They both looked up at the same time to see Puck hovering over them with his hands stuffed low into his back pockets. "Artie's worshiping my feet," Quinn answered, smiling as she crossed them back atop their cushiony perch---this time without any prompting from Artie. He couldn't help but smile at that. "He seems to have a fetish of sorts," she added a moment later, shooting a teasing glance his way. He couldn't help but smile at that either.

"Yeah. Okay Man. Whatever." Puck may have sounded indifferent, but the wrinkled look of disgust on his face told a different story---and only added to Quinn and Artie's amusement. He avioded the boy all together and regarded her exclusively, "I was wondering if we could talk."

"Sure."

Puck waited expectantly for Quinn to tell Artie to leave and when she didn't, he cast a sideways glance in the other boys direction. But Quinn held her ground. "I um, wanted to ask you a question," he prompted, annoyed.

"Okay," she nodded casually. "Shoot."

_Sounding more like a Abrams every day_, Artie mused.

Puck must have been thinking the same exact thing, if the disgruntled expression he was wearing was any indication. "I know it's not for a few more weeks, but um, I was wondering if you were going to prom."

"I wasn't planning on it," Quinn replied saucily, "on account of being eight months pregnant and all."

Puck noted the tartness right away, and smirked at the brief return of Quinn's former attitude. Damn how he loved a feisty woman. And this one was pretty hot, even if she was currently as big as a house. "I know how important this kinda shit is to chicks---," he paused to glance over his shoulder, "---and Kurt. So I um, picked up one for you."

Quinn looked down at Puck's hand. "Noah, are you asking me to prom?," she gasped, hesitantly taking the ticket he was offering her.

He shifted to the other foot and threw his hands up in the air, "Well it's not like I just dropped a Benjamin for you to go by yourself."

"How thoughtful of you," her reply was seeping with sarcasm.

Puck's lips turned up into a sly smirk. "Yeah so I---."

"Oh hey Puck," Mr. Schuester called out, "we need you back over here."

He motioned back to Will, then turned and gave Quinn that smug look accompanied by a shifty wink that she thinks got her in this mess in the first place. Her stomach flipped suddenly, making her nauseous.

"Cool." Artie managed, trying to cover the slight crack in his voice with a cough. "You're going to prom."

Quinn regarded the ticket in her hand and forced a smile, but couldn't bare to look Artie in the eye. "I guess I am," she sighed.

"Hey Mom?" Artie called as he pulled up next to the kitchen sink. Alicia looked down at him, smiling. He scanned the room to make sure it was clear and stretched as tall as he could. "I'd like to do something nice for Quinn," he whispered secretively, "like a baby shower or something."

"That's so sweet Honey," she whispered back, leaning with her elbows on the counter to get a little closer to him. "What did you have in mind?"

Artie shrugged. "Something small, maybe with just the kids from glee club," he suggested. "An afternoon or early evening with some snacks and a cake. Nothing too extravagant," he smiled and rolled his eyes, "none of have a lot of money."

Alicia chuckled as she lovingly caressed Artie shoulder. "That sounds nice," she agreed, but her smile began to fade when she glanced over at the calendar hanging on the wall. "It's too late to do anything this weekend, next weekend is crazy, the weekend after that is prom and Abbey's dance recital, then Mother's day, then Nationals, then---Artie, the baby's due two weeks after that. That doesn't really give us any time."

He sighed heavily. "I know it's short notice, but I was kinda hoping we could have it here next Saturday."

"The day before your sisters First Holy Communion/8th Birthday combo party?" Alicia asked incredulously. But one look at those big blue pleading eyes and she nearly caved. "Artie?"

"I just figured the house would already be on party alert," he proposed excitedly, "with extra food and drinks---."

"And your friends will decorate for me?" she cut in with her own suggestion. Artie nodded and grinned from ear to ear. "And they'll help clean up the mess afterwards?"

"Absolutely."

"Deal." Alicia stuck out her hand to shake on it, but instead, pulled her son into a hug.

"Thanks Mom," Artie said when the finally broke apart. "I really appreciated this."

"I know you do," she smiled at him, "and you're welcome." Alicia watched as he turned away, then remembered something. "Sweetie, I forgot to ask---." Artie spun to face her. "How'd it go?"

Artie pursed his lips together. "It didn't," he answered timidly. "I chickened out."

"Oh Honey, what happened?"

"I tried to find the courage all week, even got as far as the ticket line at lunch yesterday." There was a slight pause as Artie began chewing on his bottom lip thoughtfully. "I thought I'd have another chance, but somebody else asked her first." He gave a little shrug. "She's going with Noah."

"Artie, I'm so sorry." Alicia's heart twisted painfully. She'd seen that look so many times before. He wasn't sad or angry, just disappointed---and that hurt her even more. "What about Tina?" she asked in the next breath. Talking was about the only thing keeping her emotions in check. "I know she's only a Sophomore, but she can go if she's your date."

"Today was the last day to buy tickets," he replied simply.

"The school must have extras," she reasoned. "I'm sure if you go down to the office Monday morning---."

"Mom. Stop, please," Artie cut her off, flashing that confident smile that brightened up every single one of her days. "It's just a dance. I can go next year." But it wasn't just a dance to her, it was a rite of passage. Another in the long line of experiences that have passed him by throughout the years. "Which reminds me," he added, digging into his side pants pocket, "I have your money."

Alicia could barely hold back the anguish she felt for him. "Keep it," she managed to croak out around all of the emotion bubbling up in her throat. "You can use it to buy something special to give Quinn for the baby shower."

Artie smiled appreciatively, but shook his head no. "Then it wouldn't be from me though. I'd rather just use my own money."

It amazed her more every time, just how selfless her son could be. "Then use it for the party," Alicia insisted. "You can buy streamers and balloons---even little yellow duckies. Whatever you want."

"Okay," Artie conceded, grinning as he looked down at the crumpled pair of fifty dollar bills in his hand, "Thanks Mom."

Alicia nodded and waited until he turned and left the room before wiping away the tears that began pooling in her eyes.

An entire week of secret preparation taking place right under her nose and Quinn Fabray never had a clue.

"Dude, there's something wrong with this thing," Finn grumbled as he fought with the cardboard centerpiece he was trying to assemble, "it doesn't fit right."

Artie looked from the simple instructions to the work his friend had completed and chuckled. "That's because you put it together up-side down Finn."

"How did we get stuck doing all the manual labor?" Mike asked as he lugged another giant bag of ice to the cooler.

"Because we_ are_ men," Matt replied pointedly, and dumped the two liters of soda he was carrying, in with the ice.

"At least we're not with the girls right now---getting all pretty and pampered," Finn chimed in casually.

The gasp that escaped Kurt startled everyone. "Excuse me?" he demanded.

"The girls," Matt started to explain, "they took Quinn to the spa today."

"Tina told me they were taking her baby---stuff shopping," Kurt replied incredulously.

"But isn't that kinda the point of a baby shower---," Mike went on to say, "---to get all the stuff as gifts so you don't have to go out and buy it yourself?"

Kurt's eyes narrowed with envy. "Bitches."

Artie tried to suppress the laugh that was building inside of him as he reached for the ringing phone. "Hey Mom, what's up?" he greeted after looking at the number on the caller ID. He didn't give a chance to answer and followed with, "Where are you guys at? It's almost time to be back."

"Artie, we're on our way to the hospital," Alicia managed as calmly as she could in her present situation. "Quinn's water just broke."


	13. Chapter 13

_**An authors note---TWELVE reviews for chapter twelve. WOW. And all of those wonderful alerts and favorites---Thank you so very much. I hope you realize how much each and everyone of those responses mean to me. This chapter will contain a somewhat descriptive account of labor and delivery, without being too overly graphic. This is not my area of expertise, so I apologize for any errors that may have resulted. **_

**_Disclaimer---Glee is the property of FOX, the creators and the writers. _**

**_Lean on Me_**

_**1:57pm**_  
Kurt broke only two traffic laws during the twenty minute trip to the hospital, blowing through the stop sign at the end of Artie's block and parking in the first available handicapped spot he could find in the hospital lot, without having the proper tags---he figured just having Artie with him would be proof enough.

The receptionist at the front desk gave the motley group of teenage boys quite a look when they asked what floor the maternity ward was on, but eventually gave them the information after Matt told her it was Artie who was about to become an uncle. The story changed somewhat when they finally got up to the proper wing of the hospital.

Abbey was the first to notice them, hearing the familiar sound of her brothers wheels before anyone else. She jumped off Tina's lap and ran over to him. "Artie, Quinn's having the baby and Mommy let me get my nails painted for my Communion. The color is called pink pearl. And I got to have my hair done too, but Mommy said I can't put my veil on 'til tomorrow. Do I look pretty?" She got all the words out in one excited rush of breath.

"You look beautiful Princess," he answered, using their fathers affectionate nickname for her. With an effortless grace, Artie lifted Abbey onto his lap and moved them both over to the group of chairs she had just come from.

"Oh Artie, thank goodness you're here," Rachel spurted, jumping up from her seat. "We were just getting ready to have our seaweed facials when Quinn started vomiting. We all thought it was from the wretched smell of the masks, but then---."

"How is she?" he cut in, looking beyond Rachel to where Tina and Mercedes were standing.

"In labor," Tina stated the obvious, "But your mom's there with her."

Artie nodded and seemed to both tense and relax at that little piece of news. "Has anyone gotten a hold of Puck?" he asked in the next breath as he glanced at the dark screen of his cell phone. "I texted him three times, but he hasn't responded."

"I called him, home and cell, but nothing yet," Santana chimed in from the corner.

"Quinn ain't been all that concerned about where baby-daddy might be Wheels," Mercedes paused and smirked pointedly, "She's been askin' for you."

Artie's eyes flickered up in surprise, "Me?"

All the girls nodded in unison.

At that very second, a petite nurse walked up to the group. "You must be Artie," she greeted with a smile. He looked up at her and smiled back. "Your mother said you'd be arriving soon." It wasn't a huge surprise that a complete stranger would recognize him so quickly, he was pretty easy to spot once you knew what to look for. "Are you ready to come back with me?"

He glanced around to see the reassuring smiles and encouraging nods his friends were giving him and replied with an affirming nod of his own. Artie turned to Abbey and regarded her with a soft voice, "Dad's on his way to pick you up. You're gonna have to stay with Tina and everyone until he gets here, okay?"

"But I wanna go with you," she protested, wrapping her small arms around his neck.

"You can't Abbs," he told her, "not yet."

"Yeah, they don't allow little ones your age back there until after the babies are born," Mercedes added gently.

Abbey pouted and squeezed Artie tighter. She wasn't little, she was turning eight in only four days. "I just wanna go see Quinn."

"I know you do," he whispered comfortingly into her hair.

"Abbey," Finn called sweetly as he crouched down beside them. "Why don't you let Artie go check on Quinn. Okay?" He offered his hand out to the little girl. "We can go down to the cafeteria to get some ice cream while we wait for your dad."

Abbey's face brightened with interest, but she remained slightly hesitant. She glanced over to her brother for permission and he gave it easily, in the form of a warm smile to both her and the friends that were crowded around them. "Thanks Guys," Artie stated appreciatively.

"Anytime," Finn replied sincerely, as he clasped his hand around Abbey's and helped the little girl off of her brothers lap.

"Hey Finn, can I ride up on your shoulders?" Abbey asked as soon as she was next to him.

"I should've warned you Finn---she's always looking to bum a ride," Artie quipped, winking playfully at his little sister.

Finn chuckled. "Sure, but only 'til we get to the elevator," he told her as he lowered one knee for stability, then easily lifted her onto his shoulders before standing to his full height.

"I'm like ten feet tall now," Abbey giggled as she waved down to her brother. He smiled and waved back. "Make sure you give Quinn a great big hug for me Artie," the princess ordered from high atop her throne.

Abbey's innocent request may have made Artie blush, but it was the teasing looks his friends were giving, that made him squirm. "We'll be back in fifteen, twenty tops," Mercedes promised as she followed Finn's lead, along with Mike and Matt.

"Give her our best," Kurt asked while Tina nodded, and Rachel squeezed Artie's shoulder.

"Me and Britt'll wait here in case he shows up," Santana offered, referring to the currently MIA father-to-be.

Artie nodded. Now the only thing left to do was follow the nurse to Quinn's room.

_**2:33pm  
**_The trip down the halls of the same mother/baby unit Abbey was born in, almost eight years to the day, brought back that familiar anxious excitement Artie had felt then---until they arrived at the open door of room 418, and he could hear the sound of Quinn sobbing inside. "Ar-tie," she sputtered, breaking down as soon as she saw him.

Alarmed, Artie glanced over at his mother. Having a baby was supposed to be a joyous occasion, at least that's what he remembered from when Abbey was born. Alicia flashed him a sympathetic, yet encouraging smile. And after recovering from the momentary lapse in his brains ability to tell his arms what to do, Artie crossed the room in only three pushes.

"Shh Quinn, it's okay," he murmured soothingly, as he adjusted the angle of his chair just right so he was situated with his left side flush against her bed.

"No it's not. It's too early---" she choked out, shaking her head in disbelief, "---she's not ready."

"I think your baby would have to disagree with you there," the charge nurse chimed in while she checked the various monitors surrounding Quinn. "You're early yes, but not dangerously so."

"But all the baby books say that first babies are usually late," the mother-to-be argued, looking over at Mrs. Abrams for confirmation. "You said Artie was late, right?"

At Alicia's nod, the nurse frowned. "That's because those books are written with adults in mind," she explained casually. "Pre-term labor in much more common in teen-aged mothers." That wasn't exactly what she wanted to hear. "Everything looks good," the nurse looked from the monitors to Quinn, "You were almost three centimeters when you came in," then glanced at the clock, "We'll check you again in about thirty minutes. If you need anything, just press the call button on the side of the bed." And she was gone.

"I'm bet this isn't how you expected to spending your Saturday afternoon when you woke up this morning," Artie quipped, a playful smirk spreading across his lips.

"Not exactly," Quinn sniffled in reply. And despite everything going on around her, she was able to crack a small smile. "But then again, I really didn't think I'd be coming home to a baby shower after getting pampered at a spa," she raised a pointed brow at Artie. "Abbey let it slip on the way over here." The adorably innocent shrug he gave her caused the appreciative expression she was wearing to crumble. Her chin trembled and her eyes began to fill again, "I'm so sorry Artie."

"For what?" he asked dumbfounded.

"For ruining everything. You---everybody worked so hard and I---," she cried, switching from Artie's gaze to Alicia's, "---and Abbey's communion tomorrow---."

"Sweetheart, don't worry about that," Mrs. Abrams assured her with that calming smile of hers. "Don't worry about anything."

Quinn wanted nothing more that to forget about everything that was happening right now, but that was impossible. She avoided glancing at Artie as she let her head fall dejectedly to the side. "I'm so scared."

Artie's heart clenched. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the side rail of the bed, and his chin on his arms. "I know your scared Quinn," he replied, letting his fingers drop to her arm below. "But you don't have to be, everything is going to be fine."

"How do you know that Artie? She's more than a month early." Weeping so hard, she was almost unable to get the last part out. "What if something goes wrong?"

Artie wasn't exactly sure how to answer that. He knew there was room for complications in any delivery, but he also knew Quinn Fabray. Applying a little more pressure to the arm he was caressing, Artie smirked. "Nothing is gonna to go wrong Quinn. She'll be fine. She's strong---just like her mom."

Proud as always of her sons optimism and compassion, Alicia smiled to herself.

_**3:05pm**_  
Mrs. Abrams went out into the hall to let Artie know it was safe to come back in, just as the nurse was tossing her gloves into the trash receptacle. "You seem to be progressing normally," she announced flatly, and charted her findings. "You're about three and a half centimeters now. Only forty percent effaced though and still at a minus two stage."

Quinn's face wrinkled in confusion. She had no idea what the nurse said and was just about to ask, when Artie's excited voice broke in first. "I think you're about to have another contraction," he stated, watching as the activity on the monitor began to increase. Quinn nodded and reached out for Artie's hand, pressing it firmly against her side. His expression of wonderment faded to a grimace as her abdomen tightened. "Ouch," he muttered under his breath.

"No kidding," she managed to gasp out as she breathed in time with both Mrs. Abrams and the nurse.

The contraction was gone as quickly as it came, but Artie failed to remove his hand. And Quinn didn't bother to tell him otherwise. "I'll be back in another hour to check on you again," the nurse repeated her previous statement. "Do you need anything before I go---extra pillow or blanket, some more ice chips."

Quinn started to shake her head, then switched to a self-conscious shrug, "I need to use the bathroom." She wasn't entirely sure she wanted to know how they were going to accomplish that with her being practically tied to the bed, but with the way her daughter was currently trying to burst the sensitive organ, she really didn't have much time to be concerned with specifics.

The nurse nodded dutifully and glanced one last time at the monitors before she simply removed the leads from around Quinn's belly and helped her to sit up. Before she even knew what was happening, Quinn was then slipped into another hospital gown, this one open in the front so her backside wouldn't show when she stood, and hoisted to her feet. A look of utter disbelief covered her face. "Are you sure this is okay?" she asked hesitantly.

"I thought you had to use the washroom," the nurse retorted.

"I do but---."

"Well how did you think you were going to get there?"

Quinn sighed frustratedly. She was nervous and uncomfortable and she didn't need some bitchy nurse giving her lip. "I just mean, being up like this. Is it safe to walk around?"

"If you're worried about the baby falling out, don't be. You still have two more stages of labor before you're even remotely close to delivering."

The lack of any bedside manner emanating from this nurse was starting to irk even Mrs. Abrams. "I had back labor with the boys, so it helped to be up and around," she offered with a reassuring smile, "but it's whatever makes you more more comfortable Quinn."

"Actually, we encourage most our moms to walk around during the early stages of labor," the nurse added, her tone a little softer this time. "It helps to facilitate the process."

Quinn was still wary, but it did feel good to be up on her feet. "I think I might like to try," she looked toward the bathroom and smirked, "after I pee though."

_**5:13  
**_Unfortunately, because Quinn's bag of waters had ruptured very early on in her labor, which put her at a slightly higher risk of infection, she was forced to pace within the sanitary confines of her hospital room---not able to roam the halls like most of the other mothers-to-be. It only took about five minutes for Quinn to feel that she was wearing a rut into the floor near her bed. Twenty after that and her contractions began coming at regular intervals. And it was barely another thirty before she entered the first stages of active labor.

Artie looked on helplessly as Quinn bellowed with the beginnings of another strong contraction. "Mom?" he called, his voice soft and his tone pleading, "Are you sure she's okay?"

Alicia smiled warmly at her worried son. "Yes Honey, she's fine." There was a pause as she resumed rubbing Quinn's back. "They wouldn't call it labor if it wasn't hard work."

Quinn shifted in agitation after the peak of the contraction waned enough for her to move again. She straightened and walked a few paces. Her face was flushed and clouded with agony, her breathing strained and her eyes so shiny, she looked like she was going to loose it any minute. Then another contraction started. She clutched Alicia by the arm and tried to steady her breathing, but the tears fell in earnest now.

"Sweetie, do you want to try laying down again?" Mrs. Abrams asked soothingly.

Quinn just shook her head and cried harder. "I can't get comfortable in bed and walking isn't helping anymore---my stomach is on fire, my back aches and my legs feel like jello---." She clung onto Mrs. Abrams and sobbed, "This just hurts so much."

"Quinn, you have to try to relax," a new, much nicer nurse, told her. "Getting upset will only intensify the pain. You need to rely on your breathing exercises and focal point to help you through the contractions."

"My focal what?" she asked incredulously.

"You're focal point. An object or item that you focus on to help enhance your relaxation and concentration during labor," was the nurses clinical reply. "You should have learned about this in your birthing classes."

Quinn's face crumbled again. "I'm a month early I haven't gone to any classes yet. I didn't learn how to breathe, or pick out a focus---whatever---I never even got a chance to pack my bag."

As soon as she got the words out, another contraction hit. Mrs. Abrams and the nurse help her through the worst of it. "Quinn, you're entering the window where medications are available to help with pain management. Have you given any thought as to what you'd like to do?" Quinn gave the nurse a puzzled look. She smiled back. "Do you want to have an epidural?"

"Yes," a chorus of three voices rang out in unison.

The nurse let out a small chuckle and nodded. "I'll go page an anesthesiologist to get that set up," she stated as she walked to the door. "In the mean time, try to focus on something that relaxes you, a favorite vacation spot, a childhood toy, one of the paintings in the room---anything that you can channel to help you through the contractions."

It didn't take but a second, and Quinn knew exactly what her focal point would be. "Sing," she demanded, shuffling towards him.

"Wha---," Artie gasped in surprise, "sing what?"

"I don't care. Anything," she replied, cringing at the slowly building pain. Quinn leaned forward, grasping the arms of his chair. Artie watched her knuckles turn white as he let the soft melody flow from his lips, but surprisingly, she remained silent---save for the deep resonance of her breathing.

He held out as long as the contraction, and when they were both done, looked up to see Quinn smiling down at him. "You are my sunshine, Artie? Really?"

"It was the first thing I could think of---and you said anything," he replied in mock defence, giving an innocent shrug as he grinned back up at her. "It worked though, right?" Quinn nodded in agreement and shifted a little to rest her head on his shoulder as he began to sing her through another contraction.

_**6:41  
**_Artie opted to leave the room when the epidural was being administered. Only to return moments later and park himself at Quinn's bedside, where he'd been sitting for the past hour.

"She still asleep?" Alicia asked her son from the doorway. Artie nodded, taking the time during his reply to stretch his back and stifle a yawn. "I could turn into a very late night Sweetheart. Why don't I call Dad to come back and pick you up?"

"I wanna stay Mom," he said, glancing over at a peaceful looking Quinn. "We're all she has right now."

Alicia's smile was fleeting. "Still no luck getting in touch with Noah?"

Artie shook his head as he looked down at his phone for confirmation. "Rachel and Santana are alternating calling and texting every twenty minutes, and Mike and Matt went out looking for him."

"You can stay," Alicia acquiesced with a pointed sigh, "but only for a little while longer. I'm gonna need both you and your dad well rested for tomorrow." Abbey's communion and birthday party, he'd almost forgot. Artie nodded and this time got a brief glance in the direction of the washroom and a tap on her watch, from his mother.

"I know," he replied begrudgingly as he prepared to move. "I'm gonna use the one down the hall."

"Okay," she whispered and stepped behind him to try to work some of the knots that had formed in his shoulders. "Why don't you take a little break while you're out there---get some fresh air and something to eat."

Artie twisted his head back to find his mother pulling some money out of her pocket. "What about you?" he asked out of concern.

"I'll be fine," she answered dismissively, earning only a dubious roll of the eyes from her son as he reluctantly took the money and left the room.

Alicia pulled up a chair and took Artie's spot next to Quinn's bed. Who managed to be gone only about twenty minutes.

"I thought I told you to get something to eat," she chided upon his return.

"I did," Artie retorted, motioning to his vending machine goody-filled lap.

"I was thinking along the line of something with actual nutritional value," she countered teasingly.

Artie grinned and shrugged innocently. "I got you coffee," he offered sweetly, "two creams and a sugar."

Alicia met him halfway, her brow still raised with mock indignation, and took the cup from him. She worried when he carried hot things in his lap. "Honey, you've got enough sugar there to keep you awake until next Tuesday."

Artie let out a laugh, then slapped his hand over his mouth. He glanced over to make sure he hadn't woke Quinn. There wasn't even a twitch. "I can't believe she's still asleep," he whispered, quietly moving back over to the bed.

"Giving birth is probably the single most exhausting---," Alicia paused and flashed a small smile, "and painful task to endure."

"You're not kidding," Artie chimed in solemnly. "It's been exhausting just to watch."

"It's very hard to see someone you care about suffer." Her tone sounded distant and her gaze wandered for a moment. "Why don't you rest for a bit over here," Alicia suggested once she'd recovered enough from her previous thoughts. "It reclines," she added, pointing to the chair behind her.

"I'm not that tired Mom," he chuckled, brushing off her concern with a shake of his head and a true Artie grin.

"I know, but you've been here a long time and it would probably be a good idea if you stretched out your back and legs," she stated imploringly. Artie nodded, there was no point in arguing when he knew she was right. He quickly cleared the snacks from his lap in preparation to transfer while Alicia busied herself with adjusting the bedside table to a height attainable to him. She also stood nearby in case he needed any help.

Once settled, Artie grabbed for a snack---dessert first, of course, and sat contemplatively. "Mom?" he asked between bites. Alicia glanced up. "How did you do this more than once?"

"You mean _why _did I do this more than once?" she quipped playfully and Artie gave a sheepish shrug in reply. Alicia lost herself in her own thoughtfulness for a moment. "You push away the bad and only remember the good," she paused to look lovingly at her son, "It's so wortht it. The reward you get is far greater than the pain you endure."

Artie lowered his head and blushed. When he glanced up again, he was grinning. "Cupcake."

Alicia kissed his cheek as she accepted the kind offer, but only got through half of her sugary treat before all hell broke loose.

_**9:20  
**_Labor came on hard and fast. Quinn dilated from five centimeters to nine in just a little over an hour. And then, with the last of the epidural wearing off, she was told it was time to push.

"I can't," she informed everyone after thirty grueling minutes.

"Yes you can," Alicia said encouragingly as she wiped the perspiration from Quinn's brow with a damp cloth.

"No really, I can't." A shutter escaped and tears mingled with sweat.

"But you heard the doctor, you're so close Quinn." The excitement in Artie's voice was clearly evident. "She's almost here."

The shutters turned into pained sobs. "I'm sorry Artie." Her pleading eyes landed on her friend. "I just can't push anymore."

"Quinn," he whispered soothingly and squeezed the hand he was holding. Just as he was about offer more words of comfort, the door suddenly swung open, and in jogged a sweating, panting Noah Puckerman. Quinn growled at the father of the child she was currently working so hard to deliver with what Artie thought was anger, only to realize seconds later it was the beginnings of another contraction.

"Okay Quinn, here we go again," the doctor prompted from the end of the bed.

Alicia kept count while a re-energized Quinn bore down again. Her hand had slipped from Artie's grasp and found purchase in Noah's t-shirt. Glaring, she pulled him to her. "Where the hell have you been?" she ground the words out through clenched teeth.

"Fight club tournament," he answered defensively. "I told you about it."

"We've been trying to get a hold of you all day," Mrs. Abrams stated, multitasking as she aided Quinn, while lightly scolding Noah.

"Sorry Mrs. A. I shut my phone off---it's kind of a rule," he replied, sounding surprisingly sincere.

Alicia managed a smile as she let out a soft sigh, remembering he was only seventeen years old. "Well you're here now, I guess that's all that matters."

Puck returned with his own trademark smirk, then glanced over his shoulder at Artie. "Dude, thanks for covering for me. I owe you."

Artie shook his head dismissively. "I um---." He was about to explain that he wasn't actually there to cover for Puck, but instead to support Quinn. The words died in his throat though. "Yeah, sure," he returned with a forced smile as he prepared to move out of Noah's way.

The pushing session finally over, Quinn was able to call out, "No, Artie stays."

"What?" he and Noah asked in unison.

"Artie stays," she repeated, locking eyes with her friend. Her expression softened as much as it could under the circumstances. "You've been here with me the whole time---I don't know if I get through the rest without you."

Artie lowered his head as an embarrassed blush crept over him. Fearing bodily harm, he dared a glance up at Noah. "Whatever," the jock shrugged indifferently. "Just stay out of the way," he added warningly. Artie nodded obediently and backed up against the wall. "And if you try to cop a look down there," he motioned to beyond the blue paper sheet that was covering Quinn's straddled legs, "I'll gouge your eyes out."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Artie insisted fervently as he tried to ignore the horrified look his mothers mother was giving Noah.

The exchange ended with Puck's satisfactory nod, just as another round of pushing commenced.

It took another thirty minutes, a lot of coaxing and encouragement, and of course some very colorful language on Noah's part, but 10:36pm on April 24, 2010, Quinn Fabray delivered all 6 pounds 3 ounces, 18 and a half inches of Caroline Grace Fabray-Puckerman into the world.

_**ANx2---I know it's a little predictable, but I just had to name the baby Caroline. Aside from that note, I'm really curious to see how many of you REALLY want Quinn and Artie to become Quartie. It really wasn't my intention to have any(relationship) pairings in this story, but since there's been such and overwhelming request, I may be inclined to reconsider. If you choose to leave a review, please leave a note as to what you would prefer. I will also but up a poll, for those to wish to vote, but not review. All I ask is that you only vote once(poll or review) and that you don't request any other pairings---this after all, is still an Artie/Quinn fic.**_


	14. Chapter 14

_**An authors note---Can I just say how incredibly honored I am to have gotten such a response to the last chapter, and to the story in general. 12 HAH! You guys blew those numbers right out of the water---and for that I am in complete awe. Thank you all for making this story what it is and for making me the very happiest author ever:) Now, the baby may be out, but that only succeeds in eliminating Quinn's water retention. The rest of the problems are still there, so be prepared for new mommy angst---and a lot more Artie sweetness.**_

**_Disclaimer---Glee is the property of FOX, the creators and the writers. _**

**_Lean on Me_**

Running on only adrenaline, five hours of a rather restless sleep, and an excessive(for him, at least) amount of caffeine, Artie hurried down the hall of the mother/baby unit where Quinn was settled in last night after the hour of recovery following Caroline's birth.

This part of the floor was much more pleasant than the labor and delivery section. The sounds of newborn cries and elated family members replaced the bustle of rushing staff and the struggles of laboring mothers---and every time a new baby was delivered, a soft lullaby could be heard over the speaker system. Artie wasn't able to hear little Caroline's lullaby with all the chaos going on in the room at that time.

"Hey," he greeted softly from the doorway.

Quinn was grinning even before she glanced up from the open magazine she was trying to focus on. "Hey." They locked eyes and shared a warm smile. But when she tilted her head to the side, she gave him a slightly disapproving look. "What are you doing here Artie?"

"Bringing you cake," he answered innocently and motioned to the expertly wrapped plate on his lap. "We have three of them at home, ya know."

She quirked up an eyebrow and smirked slightly. "You should be with your family right now."

"I _was_ with them. Grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins---all---day---long." His quip was followed by a playful shrug as he entered the room, stopping halfway through to place the plate of various cake slices and other treats his mother had packed for Quinn, on the table to his left. "Besides, the festivities were winding down anyway."

"And Abbey was okay with you leaving her party early?" she asked incredulously.

"Well if by okay you mean stomping upstairs and slamming the door behind her after I told her that I wouldn't be there to watch her open her presents, then yes, she was fine with it."

"Oh Artie." Her groan was sympathetic, with guilty undertones.

He shrugged off her concern and relaxed into his chair. "It was a really long day, she just got a little upset."

"That's not upset Artie," Quinn informed him, "that's pissed off---even for an eight year old."

"Almost eight," he corrected meticulously. It was after all, still three days away. "She got over it pretty quickly after I told her were I was going." Artie grinned pointedly at Quinn as he added softly, "She really missed you today."

"I missed her too," Quinn replied, chin trembling and eyes watering. "How was it?"

Artie's eyes dazzled behind his glasses and his grin widened from ear to ear. "It was beautiful---she was beautiful." He took out his cell for proof. Clicking onto the photo gallery, he pulled up next to the bed and handed the phone over to Quinn.

An exaggerated "aw" escaped her lips. She slowly scrolled through the photos, each one more precious than the last. Her favorite? The one of just brother and sister of course. Quinn wasn't sure who looked more adorable---proud, grinning Artie, or sweet, adoring Abbey. "Did you cry?" she asked teasingly.

"Maybe," came the evasive but playful reply, though sounding much further away than she'd remembered him being.

Quinn looked back up to find Artie's attention had been captured by something, or rather someone, else. She smiled as he stretched to peer inside of the plastic bassinet-type contraption Caroline was currently sleeping in. He lifted a strong, glove-less hand up to touch the baby, gently running his finger across her small curled knuckles. Emotion flooded Quinn as she saw the touching scene unfold in front of her.

Artie must have felt he was being watched, because when he glanced back over his shoulder at Quinn, there was a blush spreading over his cheeks and a sheepish grin on his lips. He didn't acknowledge the tears that were pooling her in her eyes. Instead, he shrugged as he compared the soft, pink teddy bear produced from his lap, to the similar one already inside Caroline's bassinet. "Damn, I thought I'd be the first."

"Mr. Schuester," Quinn sniffled back her emotions. "He brought me those flowers too," she added with a watery smile as she nodded to the vase on the bedside table next to her. "In fact, everyone from glee club came to see us today."

"Yeah?" His casual response might have been interpreted as indifference, or attributed to his sudden fascination with watching Caroline breathe, or possibly the fact that he already knew their friends had been there---considering it was his text messages that arranged for Quinn to have a steady stream of visitors throughout the day while he and his family were otherwise occupied with Abbey's Communion and birthday.

Quinn nodded obliviously. "This is from Kurt, it's from Marc Jacobs baby line," she stated holding up the designer onesie. A giggle escaped and she shook her head incredulously. "I don't even have anything Marc Jacobs."

As Artie laughed along with her and she proceeded to tell him about the days events, describing in detail each gift and who it was from. "Who is this from?" he asked of the only gift she failed to mention, a clear plastic box filled with baby toys.

"Noah."

It was apparent by Quinn's set jaw and the way she spat his name out that there was something more behind his unexplained absence. "I thought he'd still be here," Artie pressed on gently.

"He left," Quinn replied curtly, "or rather, I kicked him out."

Artie spun his chair around to face her. "What happened?"

Quinn just shrugged. "He stayed the night, tried acting all fatherly and whatever. But by the second diaper change, he was about ready to jump out the window." There was a pause and a sigh, and Artie could tell she was trying not to cry. "Caroline had to go back to the nursery for some blood test or shot this morning, and I asked Noah to go with her since it's still pretty uncomfortable for me to get around. Plus I figured it would give him something to do so he wouldn't go completely insane. But when they brought her back here about an hour later, he wasn't with her."

By the look on her face, he wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer, but asked anyway. "Where was he?"

Quinn's eyes narrowed and she let out a rueful laugh. "In the waiting room by the vending machines, making out with some teen volunteer."

"I'm sorry Quinn," Artie whispered, edging back over to the side of her bed.

"Don't be." She shook her head dismissively, willing the tears in her eyes not to fall. "It just confirmed what I already knew. He's a total dog and that's never going to change." Quinn shifted painfully, which caused the magazine on next to her leg to fall to the floor.

Not wanting Quinn to strain herself anymore than necessary, Artie placed a hand on the bed to maintain his balance as he leaned forward to pick the fallen item. "But still, I am---," the words trailed off as he got a good look at the papers that had been stuffed in between the pages. "Quinn, what is this?" Her face immediately crumpled, making Artie feel guilty at how harshly his words had come out. The reality of it all settled in and he gasped, "I thought you decided not to."

"I have to Artie, it's the only way," she replied through her choking sobs, barely able to manage a look in the direction of the bassinet her daughter was nestled in. "All she has right now is a father who cares more about himself than her and grandparents who want nothing to do with either one of us---."

"And a mother---."

"And a mother who loves her enough to know that she can't possibly raise her on her own," she managed to get the words out before completely falling apart.

Artie laid his hand over hers. "You're not alone Quinn." His own voice caught in his throat, but he quickly cleared it away. "You've got us."

Quinn pressed herself deeper into the pillow as she shook her head. "I can't do that to you and your family, Artie."

"But you're a part of our family too Quinn," he countered, applying a gentle pressure to the hand he was holding. "And so is Caroline." Quinn's eyes lifted slowly to meet his. Artie smiled and she lost it, her body shuddering with uncontrollable sobs. "Shhh, Quinn---it's okay," he called out soothingly from his place next to the bed, but it wasn't enough to console her.

Quinn never saw him circle around to the other side of the bed, nor did she realize he was about to transfer onto the bed until she felt a dip in the mattress and then a warm body slide up next to hers. She turned over just as he was scooting toward her, and after helping him lift his legs over, curled up against his side and buried her face in his chest. "Hey, c'mon---everything is gonna be okay."

"Stop it," she cried out indignantly. "Why do you always say that?"

"Because I think it's true," he countered pointedly. "And I haven't been wrong yet, have I?"

That halted Quinn's sobs momentarily. He was right, and up until this morning everything had been okay. But now everything was different, Caroline was here, but Puck wasn't and neither were her parents. She snuggled closer and let it all out, "I'm so scared Artie."

Artie held her tighter, resting his cheek on the top of her head after first placing a soft kiss there. "I know you are," he whispered soothingly, "but that's to be expected. Being a parent is probably the scariest job in the world."

There was a lengthy pause as Quinn considered the words Artie had just muttered. "What if I can't do it?"

Artie sighed, she sounded so broken and lost. "What? Raise her, or give her up?" he asked softly.

"Both---either," she let out a shuttering breath, "I don't know."

As he searched for an answer, Artie ran his fingers through the long blond hair splayed across his shoulder. "Quinn, you're one of the strongest people I know---"

"I think you have that backwards," she cut in, glancing up at him pointedly.

As much as he tried ignore the compliment she'd thrown back at him, it still made him blush. "You are strong Quinn, even if you don't see it yet," Artie stated with such confidence she almost believed it. "It's obvious that you love her and you don't want to give her up---."

"But don't you see? It doesn't matter what I want," Quinn sobbed.

"Why not?"

"Because---," she snapped, letting the tears flow freely now, "Because I don't deserve her."

Artie looked down at her like she'd grown a second head. "Of course you deserve her."

"No Artie, I don't. I'm a horrible person, who's been horrible to so many people---."

"But you're not that person anymore Quinn," he countered, pulling her closer. He was starting to worry that he'd hurt her if her held her any tighter. "You're not Quinn Fabray that ruthless Cheerio who'd do anything to stay on top of---."

The soft "Hey" and gentle smack to the chest that followed, made Artie smile.

"You're Quinn Fabray, Caroline Grace's mom, my little sisters biggest role model---," he paused, lowering his eyes in a brief moment of self-consciousness, "---and probably the closest friend I've ever had."

A single tear fell down Quinn's cheek . "I'm really not sure I deserve to be honored with any of those titles. I know I don't have the qualities to be a role model to anyone---let alone the mother of an innocent baby."

"But you are her mother," Artie argued irrefutably, covering her hand with his free one. "And I've seen how you are with kids Quinn, you're wonderful. Abbey absolutely idolizes you."

"That's because she's only eight Artie---okay, almost eight," Quinn amended before he had the chance to correct her---again. "And it's so easy to get along with her because she's already been molded into such a great kid by two of the best parents I've ever met." There was a pause as her expression softened just a little. "And one truly amazing big brother," she added just a half beat later.

Artie pushed aside his emotions and considered making some quip about which brother she meant---him, or Andy. But this wasn't the time or place for jokes like that. So he settled on the generic, "Can't argue with you there." He was proud of his parents and his relationship with them and it showed. Quinn on the other hand, wasn't so lucky and Artie knew that she was probably having a harder time dealing with that, than she was with Noah's earlier indiscretions. "I can't imagine how difficult it must be not to be able to share the most important event in your life with your family. I'm sure you would have rather had your mom here last night instead of my---."

"No," she shot back, silencing him with just that one little word. He glanced down to find her glaring up at him. "Artie, your family has shown me more love and compassion in the past four and a half months than I think I deserve." He felt her tense under his arms as she continued. "And your mother---," she stopped, her emotions getting the best of her again. Quinn shook her head. "My parents don't care about me. They kicked me out when I needed them the most. They didn't---." A hand flew to her mouth, recognition tearing into her like a knife. "Oh God Artie, I'm exactly like them. If I give Caroline up, I'd be deserting her just like my parents deserted me. She'll grow up thinking I didn't want her---that I didn't love her."

He smiled. "It's obvious that you love her Quinn."

"And that's all you need, right?" she queried, with a deep sincerity to her tone. "Love?"

Artie gave a sheepish shrug and smirked, "It worked for the Beetles." Quinn glanced up at him and her surprise faded into a smile. A small, but genuine smile. He waited as she wiped the remnants of the already shed tears from her cheek before continuing. "Every situation is different Quinn, and yours may not always be ideal. But the most important thing any child can have growing up, is the unconditional love of their mother."

He was speaking from experience now, and that touched Quinn deeply. She finally let herself relax in Artie's strong arms and let out a overwhelming sigh. "I'm just worried I won't have anything else to offer her."

"Are you kidding?" Artie quipped playfully. "You have two teddy bears, a satin blanket, a box full of toys, designer underwear that probably costs more than my entire outfit---."

"Not exactly what I was referring to," Quinn cut in pointedly. "But now that you mentioned it, babies do require an extensive amount of everything---none of which I've given any thought too. In fact, all I have to dress her in is said underwear, and those cute little sun-dresses Rachel bought her that are probably two sizes too big for my little preemie." The affectionate way Quinn spoke of Caroline, made Artie's smile widen.

"What are you doing?" she asked when she felt his arm slip out from underneath her shoulders.

"Texting my Dad," he answered, casually typing away on the keypad.

"Why, so he can raid the nearest baby super-store and magically find everything we need?" she asked sarcastically.

"Don't be ridiculous. It's almost nine on a Sunday night," Artie retorted incredulously, "all those places are already closed. I just need him to bring me something."

Quinn glared suspiciously at him. "Where is he anyway?"

"Downstairs in the cafeteria, having some coffee." Artie grinned at the frown that was produced when he shifted the screen from Quinn's field of vision after he caught her trying to peek at what he was typing.

Quinn let the mystery of trying to figure out what Artie was up to, slide for the moment. He looped his arm back behind her and she couldn't help but relax back into the warmth of his embrace. While trying to get comfortable though, Quinn encountered a slight problem. "Artie, I'm sorry I blubbered all over your new suit."

He let a good-natured chuckle out and shrugged, "That's okay, I probably won't wear it again anyway," then looked down and laughed, "I got tomato sauce all over my tie earlier."

Quinn let the stress of the day fade away, and giggled along with him. "You should though," she began, mindlessly running her finger over the lapel of his jacket, "wear it again." Her hand stilled and she looked him up and down, all while maintaining an appreciative expression. "You look really handsome tonight Artie."

A small, self-conscious grin spread across his lips at the compliment. He lowered his gaze to his lap and the air fell silent between them, but before it could get too awkward, there was a soft rap at the door. "Come in," Quinn called, shifting to sit up. Artie took the opportunity to transfer back to his chair.

"Are you up for another visitor?" Art called back, sticking just his head inside the room.

"Of course Mr. Abrams, please," she replied happily. He stepped in, carrying a paper coffee cup in one hand, just like Artie had mentioned, but left something else by the door that Quinn couldn't quite make out.

"How are you feeling Quinn?" he greeted by way of question, and bent over to place a soft kiss on her temple. It was such a sweet, innocent gesture, one that a father might give his own daughter---and it made Quinn's eyes water anew.

"I'm fine, thank you," she managed to answer through the tightness in her throat. Gingerly slipping from the bed, she invited him to, "Come meet Caroline."

"She's beautiful," Art remarked, reaching out to touch Caroline's little hand much like his son had done when he first arrived. Mr. Abrams glanced over and smiled at Quinn. "Just like her Mommy."

She couldn't help but smile back.

A noise from behind caught their attention and Quinn turned to see Artie pull up with his own special delivery on his lap.

"Artie?"

"There's a stroller that goes with it in the van, but I couldn't unhook the latch system to get it unfolded," Art chuckled at his ineptitude. "I'll get Artie down there, I'm sure he can figure it out."

Quinn couldn't respond, all she was able to do was stare gapingly at Artie. "It was one of the only things Mom didn't have saved from when Abbey was a baby," he stated, handing off the brand new infant car seat to her. "And I know how you like things to match," he added, twisting around to grab the diaper bag of the same pattern, that was hanging off the handles of his chair.

"It's pink, my favorite."

Artie nodded. "I hope you like it. It was supposed to be for your baby shower. We kept all the receipts if you don't---." He felt himself beging to ramble and took a calming breath. "There's more at the house, but Mom only washed the stuff she thought you'd need right now." Quinn unzipped the bag to find it packed with all the newborn essentials, sleepers, onesies, blankets, a hat.

"Artie I---I don't know what to say," she gasped in disbelief.

Artie gave a timid half-shrug as he suggested, "Say you'll both be coming home to our house, when the doctor releases you tomorrow."

Quinn broke down again, this time with happy tears.

There was definitely no other place she'd rather go.


	15. Chapter 15

_**An authors note---My deepest gratitude to all of you readers who continue to read and review this story. Thank You. I originally wasn't planning on showing Abbey's reaction/interaction to/with Caroline, only hint at it. How foolish of me. So, per request of the wonderful Artemis Rayne, I've decided to revamp this chapter a bit and dedicate the last part to little miss Abrams(hence the slight delay in updating).**_

**_Disclaimer---Glee is the property of FOX, the creators and the writers. _**

**_Lean on Me_**

The decision to return to the Abrams house after giving birth to Caroline, had weighed heavily on Quinn's mind. Even more so than taking them up on their invitation to stay with them during her pregnancy, four and a half months ago. She had agreed initially under the premise that she was going to take this time to set up more permanent living arrangements for her and her baby, after she was born. She'd also planned to use the time to mend things with her parents and work on getting along with the Puckerman's.

But none of that ever happened.

Instead, Quinn struggled with a continuous internal battle of right and wrong all while she slowly fell in love with a family she regarded more highly than even her own. Currently, her heart was telling her she should go back to the place where she was wanted and cared for, while her head was insisting that it wasn't right to continue to take advantage of their extreme generosity.

But Artie also proved to be very insistent.

He knew that currently, her only other option was to go to a state funded center for teen-aged mothers, and he wasn't about to let that happen. So he vowed not to leave the hospital until Quinn agreed to their previous terms. The unexpected early arrival of Caroline hadn't change anything in his mind.

Still with some slight reservations, but a smile on her face, Quinn finally conceded---only after first making Artie promise that he wouldn't go skipping school just to come with his mom to pick her and Caroline up, like she knew he wanted to. His time would be better served in the classes that they shared, taking notes and getting the assignments she needed to help prevent her from falling too far behind.

He was happy to accept.

Exhausted from both the physical and emotional strain of the weekend, as well as the restless, dream filled sleep that plagued her the previous night---Quinn was grateful when they arrived home and Mrs. Abrams offered to get the sleeping baby settled in the bassinet they had set up in the family room, while she went upstairs to take a much needed nap.

Cutting through the dinning room like she usually did, Quinn was greeted with the remnants of the parties she missed---Abbey's birthday/Communion combo and the baby shower thrown in her honor. Pink and white streamers, themed cutouts, pastel balloons with printed eights all over them mixed in with ones adorning sliver crosses and others reading either "It's a Girl" or "Baby Shower". Her heart clenched tightly in her chest.

She made her way up the stairs, which proved to be a very challenging feat. At about the halfway point, Quinn began to berate herself for not just staying where she was and crashing on the living room couch. She briefly considered using Artie's chair lift, but quickly dismissed the notion since sitting hurt almost as much as walking did. Besides, that would just be plain wrong. She had two perfectly capable legs to take her up and down the stairs and she should be thankful for that---no matter how painful that activity currently was.

Quinn had so many thoughts running through her mind that by the time she reached the second floor, she was sure she was in the wrong room. And if it wasn't for the colorful crayon colored sign that read "Welcome home Quinn and Caroline" in child like scroll, hanging above the bed, she probably would have walked right out.

Her eyes scanned the new, but familiar surroundings. The walls had been freshly painted a lovely pale pink. The blue hued coverings on the bed and windows were replaced with feminine rose covered patterned shears and linens, that complemented those adorning the crib angled in the corner of the room. A matching changing table sat against the wall next to the crib, and a small dresser was placed adjacent to it. Mrs. Abrams rocking chair sat nearby.

"Do you like it?" a soft voice asked from the doorway.

Quinn spun around. "Mrs. Abrams this is just---." The words died off when her throat seized, and the dam holding back her tears, broke.

"Artie's been bugging me to do something with this room for years," Alicia said, smiling as she walked in, cradling Caroline in her arms. "I guess I just didn't have a good enough reason to, until now." Quinn was stunned speechless and beyond touched. She watched as Mrs. Abrams stepped over to the crib and gently laid the sleeping baby into it. "Somebody wanted to be close to her mommy," she whispered, glancing pointedly over her shoulder.

Quinn managed a watery smile.

"You know, we purchased this lot right after I found out I was pregnant," Alicia reminisced as she lovingly ran her hand across the wood side rail of the crib. Quinn recognized the furniture as Abbey's from the multitude of baby pictures she'd seen it in. "Construction had just started on the subdivision and Art and I were able to work with the contractors and design the house exactly the way we wanted it." The memory made her smile as she glanced around the room. "We always knew this would be the nursery." She paused and her smile widened. "And less than a month after we moved in, Artie was born."

Quinn couldn't help but grin wider as a silent stream of tears trickled down her cheeks. She remembered a very similar story told by Artie while the two of them were paging through his baby books.

Mrs. Abrams expression turned wistful and Quinn could see the tears pooling in her eyes as well. "The only time I can remember Artie really crying after the accident was when he thought we were going to have to move," she recalled, slowly reliving what was obviously the most painful time in her life. "He'd accepted everything else so readily, but the possibility of having to leave the only house he'd ever known---." Alicia's emotions caught up with her and she needed a moment to compose herself.

"We promised him that nothing would change at home---with some minor exceptions, of course," she managed after a few minutes. "It nearly broke my heart when we finally had to move him downstairs---even though we knew it was the best thing for him, and something that he really wanted." There was a slight hesitation, followed by a fleeting smile. "It just made me so sad to pass this room every day and see it empty," Alicia reached out and affectionately cupped Quinn's cheek, "until you came along."

Quinn wasn't sure if it was the sincerity of her words, the genuine smile gracing her lips, or the loving gesture that followed, but within seconds she found herself wrapping her arms around Mrs. Abrams neck and sobbing into her shoulder.

"Sweetheart, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you," Alicia's soothing voice rolled into a soft chuckle. "That was supposed to be a compliment."

Quinn broke the embrace and cleared the tears from eyes with her fingertips. She glanced around the room one more time, and shook her head in disbelief. "This is all just so overwhelming," she managed to gasp out. "First the gifts at the hospital yesterday and now this---."

"All Artie's idea." The revelation tugged something deep within Quinn, as did the expression in those all too familiar blue eyes. "He wanted you to have this room Quinn. So do we," Alicia stated, speaking for both her and Art. She looped her arm back around the young blonds shoulders and squeezed. "And it's yours for as long as you need it."

It was a promise that meant more to Quinn than she could even imagine, and she clung on to the words and the woman, desperately. "Oh Mrs. Abrams, I don't know how I can ever repay---."

"It's Alicia, Dear," she countered affectionately, as she enveloped Quinn back into her arms. "And you never have to worry about that---just be happy." Mrs. Abrams waited for some type of acknowledgement from Quinn. It came in the form of a small nod and she released her. Peeking over the side of the crib, Alicia then smiled. "Caroline is still out. You should probably get some rest before the kids get home from school," a small chuckle escaped her lips, "because once Abbey gets here, you won't get a moments peace."

Quinn gave another timid nod. "Okay---Alicia," she replied softly.

Not another word was spoken as Alicia tucked Quinn into bed and laid a gentle kiss upon her forehead.

A nudge to the shoulder elicited a small groan from Quinn's lips. She snuggled deeper under the covers, but the gentle assault continued. "Quinn? Quinn, wake up."

"Artie?" she mumbled, forcing her sleepy eyes to open. Her head lolled to the left and she sighed. "Aren't you supposed to be at glee rehearsal?"

"I skipped," he answered, shrugging indifferently. "My partner wasn't there anyway."

She was able to match the grin he was giving her as she set out to push herself up into a sitting position in a way that caused the least amount of discomfort. "How did you get in here?" she asked next, trying to keep the conversation light.

Artie glanced over his shoulder at the folding chair sitting next to the doorway. "I have a few tricks up my sleeve," he quipped playfully.

Quinn allowed a small giggle to escape as she glanced over in that direction. It quickly occurred to her that he must have had to transfer from his spare, or 'upstairs chair' as Abbey had dubbed it, to the folding chair to get inside the room, then collapse his enough to get it through the doorway, before transferring back. "All that effort just to see me?" she countered teasingly, but her tone was both sincere and appreciative.

His grin became impossibly wide. "You think that's impressive? You should see what I used to have to do just to get into the bathroom up here." Quinn knew it was meant as a light-hearted joke, but it still caused a twinge of sadness and guilt to twist in her stomach---especially since she was the one currently occupying his old bedroom. There wasn't much time to dwell since Artie's voice rang out just seconds later. "Besides, someone was protesting a little."

It was only then that Quinn realized he was holding Caroline in his arms. "Oh God Artie, I'm sorry. I didn't even hear her crying."

His lips twisted to the side in that adorable way. "She wasn't actually crying," he admitted sheepishly, "just kind of whimpering."

It was clearly evident that this is how it must have been with Abbey, and that her daughter was now destined to be spoiled rotten by one Arthur John Abrams---the third. Though, Quinn quickly concluded, there were many other fates far worse then that. "I tried burping her first, but she didn't need to be. She did calm down a little after I changed her, but now she's rooting which probably means she's hungry."

Artie immediately began to blush over the intense scrutiny of Quinn's smirky gaze. "And I can't help in that department," he added a bit self-consciously and maneuvered with one-hand, closer to the bed. Her teasing expression softened as she leaned forward and carefully took the precious bundle he was offering.

With the hand off complete, Artie swiveled in the direction of the door. "I can lock it if you need more privacy," he offered, twisting his head over his shoulder to look at her. "Abbey'll be home in about fifteen minutes and I can't promise she won't try to barge in here while you're---um, feeding Caroline."

"It's okay," she countered sweetly, "I don't mind." He nodded and set off to repeat the procedure needed for his exit. Quinn watched in complete wonderment as he accomplished the task effortlessly, even leaving the folding chair collapsed against the wall outside her room for what she hoped would be a return visit.

"Hey Artie," she called out just as his hand made contact with the door knob. He stopped to look up at her. Quinn's eyes lifted from her daughters face, to the walls around her, and then to his sparkling blue eyes. "Thank you---for everything."

Artie smiled back. "Welcome home Quinn," he said, softly closing the door behind him.

"Ooh, ooh," Abbey squealed, jumping up and down as she impatiently waited at the base of the stairs for Quinn to descend. "I wanna hold her." Alicia met them halfway and took the baby, then offered Quinn her arm for additional support.

"Are you okay Quinn?" Abbey asked with obvious concern.

The blond smiled and nodded as she answered, "Fine Abbey, just a little sore from pushing her out."

The little girl wrinkled her face in confusion. "Pushing her out of what?" she asked incredulously.

Andy let out an indignant snort from somewhere behind her and added, "You don't wanna know."

Quinn giggled. It was obvious Mr. and Mrs. Abrams had only got so far with their explanation of where babies come from. And she intended on keeping it that way. The birthing process was not something she wanted to have to explain to a second grader.

"Abbey, did you wash your hands?" Alicia's question broke Quinn from her train of thought.

"Yep, when I got home from school," was the simple answer.

"What about after your snack?" The child shook her head no. "Well, you need to wash them again if you want to hold Caroline."

"Why?" she queried.

Artie turned to his sister this time. "Because she's new and little, and we don't want to expose her to too many germs yet," he explained, then smiled as he grasped her hand in his, "or chocolate pudding."

Abbey grinned, but let out a dramatic sigh before rushing back into the kitchen. "And use soap please," Mrs. Abrams called out after her.

Like a flash, Abbey returned with hands still damp from her less than thorough drying. "I'm ready," she announced anxiously.

"Okay, now go take a seat on the couch," her mother told her.

"But I won't drop her," Abbey replied in defense.

"If you want to hold the baby, you must be sitting," Alicia informed as she guided her slightly disappointed daughter into the family room. She waited for Abbey to get comfortable, then propped a pillow against her and gently laid Caroline into her arms.

Abbey studied the baby for a moment then looked up and smiled approvingly. "She looks like a Caroline."

"Not a Blueberry?" Artie asked for good measure. Abbey shot him an incredulous look.

"More like a tomato," Andy mumbled, wrinkling his face in what looked to be concern. "Is she supposed to be that red?"

Artie twisted his head back, regarding Andy. "Babies usually gain the most fat in the last month of the pregnancy. Caroline's a preemie, so her skin still has that transparent quality, hence the rosy color." Andy's face contorted even more than it usually did when his brother spoke.

"Well, I think she's cute," Abbey pipped in.

"I think all newborns look like aliens," Andy grumbled, and simply walked away.

"Sorry," Artie offered to Quinn apologetically, but she dismissed it with a wave of her hand---Andy did kind of have a point.

Abbey shifted restlessly on the couch. "When will she wake up?"

Quinn glanced up at the clock on the wall before replying, "Probably around seven."

"Good, I can play with her then," the little girl stated resolutely.

Artie chuckled. "Newborns don't actually play, Abbs."

"What do they do then?" she tossed back.

"They pretty much eat, sleep, wet, poop and cry," Quinn answered casually.

"And not necessarily in that order," Artie supplemented playfully.

Abbey's eyes widened in disbelief. "That's it?" she gasped.

Quinn nodded affirmatively. "For the first couple of weeks at least."

"Weeks?" Abbey looked down at the peacefully sleeping baby in her arms and let out a soft sigh. Artie confirmed that piece of information with a nod of his own and she let out a soft, "Oh." Abbey slowly lifted her eyes to meet Quinn's. "You could have her back now," she said, waiting for Caroline to be lifted from her before sliding down to her feet and walking from the room dejectedly. "I have homework to do anyway."

_**ANx2---Sorry, but I have to---OMG, Artie at a roller rink, and with skates on too. Then as a piece of cake, and my favorite, yellow with chocolate frosting. Isn't he just simply delicious?**_


	16. Chapter 16

_**An authors note---The overall response to this story continues to amaze me. I am truly thankful to everyone who has read, reviewed, voted, alerted, and made this a favorite---the numbers of the latter two have been quite spectacular. I confess that I really did not plan on this story to blossoming into what it has become, but then just as I would finish forming one chapter, five new ideas would pop into my head. This one was no exception, and I really wanted to revisit this subject, especially since it received such a positive reaction the first time.**_

**_Disclaimer---Glee is the property of FOX, the creators and the writers. _**

**_Lean on Me_**

Life with a newborn had proved to be an adjustment, in varying degrees, for all of the members of the Abrams household.

For Quinn of course, the adjustments were obvious. But if the past eight months had taught her anything, it was that she needed to take care of herself, so she could take care of the life depending on her. Luckily, she had two of the most amazing parental role models to help with everything else. And Art and Alicia, who had thus far taken everything in stride, went above and beyond to integrate both her and her new daughter into the family dynamic. A tiring yet exceedingly happy process for everyone involved.

Well, almost everyone.

Andy had a little more trouble getting used to having a baby in the house again. He wasn't all that thrilled when his own little sister made her debut eight years ago and was becoming increasingly annoyed at the almost constant noise. Instead of whining and moping and begging to send the baby back like he did when he was six---if there was crying when he came home from school or his sports activities, Andy would simply retreat up to his room. Not exactly something that was unusual for a teen-aged boy. He tried to endure it for the most part, especially when it was happening during meals or the dreaded 'family time'. And at night, he simply took to sleeping with his I-pod on and the volume turned up as loud as it would go, _plus_, a pillow over his head for good measure.

Abbey's behavior was a bit more, well---involved. Or not. After their oddly brief and somewhat disappointing introduction, the youngster seemed confused about what role this new addition would have in their family. One minute she was all over Quinn, watching intently as she fed, and changed, and washed Caroline---and the next she wanted nothing at all to do with the baby.

It didn't seem to be a surprise to anyone but Artie, that the only time Abbey started exhibiting these slightly jealous tendencies, was when he was the one giving the baby attention.

To say that Abbey was possessive in her relationship with her oldest brother was a bit of an understatement. And it was clear to everyone but maybe her, that he was completely and forever wrapped around her little finger. But it wasn't until Wednesday evening, which just happened to be Abbey's actual birthday, over a double scoop of chocolate chip cookie dough at the local ice cream parlor, was Artie able to assure her of that---and more importantly, that he'd always have room on his lap for his favorite girl.

Abbey took that invitation to heart and made it a point to climb up into said lap---every single time Artie was holding Caroline.

That first week flew by for some, and lingered for others. Friday night found most of the family headed to bed before the sun had completely set. Saturday was really no better.

"Hey Quinn." Artie's cheerful voice broke through her daze and made her smile. He returned the gesture and proceeded to make his way over to the couch, but fell short when he realized exactly what was going on underneath the blanket draped over her shoulder. "Oh God, I'm sorry," he sputtered and quickly turned away.

"It's okay Artie." Quinn couldn't hide the amusement in her voice, but did bite back the chuckle that bubbling at the surface. She didn't want him to feel any more uncomfortable than he already did. Not that he had any real reason to be uncomfortable--- she was just feeding her baby. "You can turn around now. I'm descent," she added, once she was situated with Caroline propped over one shoulder. There was a slight hint of teasing still in her tone and Quinn couldn't resist the quip that followed just a half a second later, "Well, relatively speaking."

Always the gentleman, Artie purposely turned around slower than he needed to. There was a shy smile playing at his lips, and he kept his gaze lowered to his lap which made it hard to decipher whether the flush that had crept up his neck to his cheeks was from her comment, or the situation that proceeded it. "Sorry if I interrupted you," he mumbled after first clearing his throat.

"You didn't," Quinn assured him with an ever growing smile. Then added with a glance down at the precious face of her sleeping daughter, "She was done a while ago." A small chuckle followed as she lifted her eyes to meet Artie's. "I must have zoned out for a few minutes there." When his only response was a small sympathetic nod, Quinn quickly changed the subject. "What's up?" she asked noting his casual attire, "You guys off to Abbey's soccer practice now?"

Artie studied Quinn quizzically, practice was yesterday. "Ah---it was a game, and we just got back from it." He was sure he'd called out to her when they were leaving earlier. "It started a noon. Remember?" The gentle tone of concern in his voice was followed by a slight hesitation. "Mom's upstairs now getting her ready for the dress rehearsal for tomorrows dance recital."

_That was here already? _Of course she should have known it was, Abbey did nothing but eat, sleep and breathe dance, all week long---but since Caroline's birth, Quinn's brain had been taking periodic vacations and she was starting to feel like Brittany, sometimes forgetting her own name. Quinn's eyes widened when she glanced at the clock to see it was now a little after two. "I promised to help with her hair," she stated, letting out a small groan of disappointment, then paused to shake her head. "God Artie, how does someone loose an entire day?"

His only acknowledgement to her rhetorical question with a sweet grin and a slightly sympathetic shrug. Quinn sighed heavily. "I swear it feels like I'm sitting in the exact same spot I was yesterday when you came home from school."

"Probably because you are," Artie returned teasingly. She managed a playfully roll of the eyes at his lame quip, but unfortunately, the smile that accompanied it had been brief. Noticing that reaction, he moved to pull up next to her. "You're running on autopilot Quinn, it's no surprise the days are just morphing all together." His tone was soft and soothing, and just what she needed at that very moment. Quinn glanced up just in time to see Artie flash that adorable smile of his. "Ya now, Mom was going to wash Abbey up first," he added suggestively, "I'm sure she hasn't even started on her hair yet."

Quinn gave him a small nod of acknowledgement, but before she could go help with Abbey's hair, there was something more pressing she had to get done first. "C'mon baby girl, burp for Mommy," she whispered encouragingly to the little bundle curled up against her chest.

Artie's smile widened as he moved to pull his gloves off. "Here, let me have a try," he offered, first twisting around to grab the little bottle of hand sanitizer on the key chain hanging off the strap of his backpack. Once he felt his hands were satisfactorily germ free, Artie eagerly held them out to accept Caroline.

"Fine," Quinn sighed with mock exasperation as she handed the baby over, "she seems to only want to burp for you or your mom, anyway."

"That's because you're too gentle with her," Artie replied, trying to hide the smirk of satisfaction that was forming, as he alternated between rubbing his fingers up and down Caroline's sides, with patting her back. Lo and behold, a few seconds later, Caroline squirmed, grunted and let out a huge burp that amazingly, had not fazed her in the least.

"How do you do that?" Quinn gasped, and this time the exasperation was real.

Artie held back a chuckle as to not wake the infant snuggled up against him. "You can't be afraid to hurt her Quinn. You won't. You just need a firm but gentle hand."

"It's no wonder she likes you so much. You have about the strongest, softest hands I've ever felt," Quinn returned pointedly. But after watching Artie's face contort in confusion, she was quick to clarify. "Dancing partners is one thing, but I swear, when I was holding on to your hand during labor, it was like squeezing a brick wrapped in cotton."

Artie took a minute to process what sounded like a compliment, by studying his free hand. Strong? Sure, considering he was forced to rely on his hands for every single thing he did. But riddled with callouses, some from playing guitar, but most from using his chair, he would never classify any part of them as being particularly soft. Wearing his gloves most of the time, helped, as did apply lotion every night before bed, but they just never looked like the type of hands someone else---besides Abbey and his Mom, of course---would _want _to touch.

Until long slender fingers slipped into his palm.

Artie lifted his eyes slowly to find Quinn smiling warmly at him. "Thanks," she said, and gave a gentle squeeze before letting go.

"Sure," he replied as she walked passed him tothe stairs. "Hey Cinderella?" he called out playfully, just a second later, and she turned to face him. "While you're up there, you should probably start getting ready yourself."

"For what?" she asked incredulously.

"The ball of course," he answered back wittily.

Prom. Right. That wasn't likely to happen now. "Be serious Artie, we both know he's not going to show," Quinn countered matter-of-fact. "Especially not after I told him I never wanted to see his stupid, fuc---," she paused to regroup, and replace the actual words she used with less offensive ones"---ugly face again."

He supposed that could be true, considering the rumor going around school was that Puck was actually taking the new co-head Cheerio named Cassie whatever, a leggy brunette with a reputation longer than her last name.

Suddenly, Artie looked so sad. And while Quinn wasn't sure exactly why, she was certain she didn't want sympathy from anyone. "Besides, it's not like Noah Puckerman was ever going to take some fatty to prom."

"You're not fat Quinn," Artie countered softly.

"Maybe not as much anymore," she acquiesced with a casual shrug, "but definitely stupid for believing that anyone wanted to go with me in the first place."

By the time Artie was able to recover from his shock, Quinn was already halfway up the stairs. "I wanted to---," he tried so hard to get the words out this time, but then she looked at him expectantly and he chickened out. Again. Lowering his head self-consciously, he fumbled through another approach, "---to um---let you know that I can take her for a while if you wanted to rest or something. You know, take a nap or bath, or---."

"Artie, is that supposed to be a politically correct way of telling me I look like crap?" she asked teasingly.

"Oh God no, not at all." His sputtering reply made her laugh. "I just thought you could use some time to yourself."

The sweetly sincere way he offered made something in Quinn's stomach flutter. "I can, thanks," she replied appreciatively, then remembered Alicia was leaving soon to take Abbey to rehearsal. "Are you sure about this Artie?"

Artie followed her gaze from where he was to the other side of the room where the baby care items were, and quickly picked up on the implied meaning of that question. "Yeah, we'll be fine," he answered confidently. "Mom should only be gone about an hour or so, and Dad and Andy'll be home. We'll holler if we need you."

Quinn's chest tightened. She never meant for it to sound like she was in any way questioning Artie's ability to care for Caroline. In fact, he was probably the most competent when it came to babysitters. It's just she knew how hard it was for her sometimes, and didn't want to put him in a compromising situation. So she joked instead. "Uh oh. Three men and a baby, should I be worried?"

Artie visibly relaxed and flashed a smile as he shook his head. "I think we'll be okay."

After a quick nod of approval, Quinn resumed her climb. Artie waited until she was out of sight before considering his options. Yelling would certainly grab her attention, which was the last thing he wanted. He could always tuck Caroline safely into his lap to search the house, downstairs only of course, but one look at the peacefully sleeping baby cradled in his arm and---.

Smiling, Artie pulled out his cell phone and began typing one-handed, the following message---

_Dad_  
_need ur help with something_  
_asap_  
_in fam rm_  
_Ace_

After being inexplicably holed up in her bedroom for the better part of the afternoon, Quinn was almost hesitant to descend back downstairs. Her two and a half hour power nap and the lengthy shower that followed, were exactly what she needed. However the surprise of finding the white eyelet baby-doll dress she was currently wearing, laying on her bed and Alicia there, offering to do her hair and nails when she returned to her room, was unexpected.

Quinn finally did make it down, but in her haste to get to the dinning room for the meal she feared she'd missed, she almost passed up the spectacularly decorated family room. She stopped dead in her tracks, and upon further inspection, found the walls awash in pastel ribbons of twisted streamers and the floor covered in a sea balloons. Artie was sitting nearby, dressed in the suit her wore the previous week for Abbey's Communion. He glanced up from the tie he was inspecting and grinned at her. "The dry cleaner was able to get the sauce stain out.".

Quinn's mouth fell open a little wider. _It looked like a party supply store exploded in his family room, and he's worried about his tie?_ "Artie, what's going on?"

Pushing his glasses up and sitting straighter, Artie poised himself to speak. "Well it seems I may have been a bit overzealous when purchasing the decorations for the parties last week. And since neither of us have plans for tonight," there was a pause followed by a sheepish shrug, "I figured I would put them to good use, and bring prom here to you."

Tears stung the backs of Quinn's wide eyes. "Oh my God, Artie. I---." The words trailed off just as she stepped into the room. She sniffled back her emotion and let out a giggle as she twirled, kicking the balloons aside with the freshly painted toes of her feet. "This is incredible. How---," she glanced up from him and pointed at the ceiling, "How did you do that?"

Artie chuckled. "Dad did most of the decorating. I tried to help with the balloons, but realized after the fifth one, that having an asthmatic blow up five dozen of them, probably wasn't a good idea---I paid Andy twenty bucks to do the rest."

Quinn's body shook with laughter, but her heart filled with something else. This was probably the single most crazy, and by far the sweetest, thing anyone had ever done for her. She looked across at Artie and noticed for the first time, that he was still sitting just outside the room. He glanced down at the balloon covered floor and gave another sheepish shrug. "I guess I didn't think out the logistics of this very well."

"Oh here, " Quinn offered kindly and kicked a path clear for him.

"Thanks," he replied, pulling up beside her. Artie motioned over to the coffee table. "There's some food if you want it."

Quinn's face lit up when she saw the Chinese take-out cartons. "Schezwan shrimp?"

"Of course," Artie grinned in reply. "I know spicy food gave you heart burn when you were pregnant, but I figured it should be safe now. And it's your favorite, so---."

"Thank you Artie," she cut him off with her sincerity.

Opening up his own container, Artie ate through three quarters of it before he was flooded with an overwhelming need to apologize. "I'm sorry about tonight," he started out softly. "I know this is probably not how you expected to be spending your junior prom."

Quinn took a moment to prepare her answer. "No you're right, this isn't the way I'd always envisioned my prom," she answered truthfully, making Artie's lips twist into a small frown. "But if you would have told me a year ago, that I would be the mother of Noah Puckerman's baby and living here with your family---I would have thought you were crazy." She let out a little chuckle and smiled warmly at him. "Just like my horribly screwed up life, this may not be what I had planned---but it's perfect Artie, really." A self-conscious flush now colored Artie's cheeks. He looked so proud and hopeful, and so utterly adorable that Quinn just had to add a playful little side note. "Besides, there's always next year, right?"

Artie laughed along with her. "That's exactly what I told my mom."

His words struck Quinn in a such a way that she felt inclined to ask. "Why didn't _you_ go?"

He shrugged dismissively and grinned. "School dances and wheelchairs are not exactly synonymous with one another."

"Oh please," Quinn sighed dramatically. "Aside from Mike, you're probably the best dancer we have in Glee club." The return of Artie's blush made her smile widen. "In fact, I know you are," she added with a very pointed smirk. "Which brings me to my next question---," Quinn held out her hand to him as she stood, "May I have this dance?"

"I believe that was supposed to be my line," he quipped, shyly glancing away from her expectant gaze. His eyes landed on her bare feet and he chuckled. "You might want to put on some shoes first," there was a slight pause before he dared look back up at her, "I may be the other reason Tina wears steel-toed boots."

He half expected a wide smile or even a giggle in return, but instead got this in reply. "I'm fine," Quinn assured without reservation. She locked eyes with him and added just as certainly, "I know you wont hurt me."

"But just to be sure, why don't you have a seat," he managed softly as he pressed the play button on the remote to the cd player, then graciously accepted the hand that was still outstretched to him. Quinn glanced skeptically at the lap in question and Artie could see the hesitation in her eyes. "I know you wont hurt me either."

Quinn gave a small nod as she gently slipped into Artie's lap. Tucking her feet behind his legs, she wrapped her arms around his neck, rested her cheek against the top of his head, and shared her first official prom dance with the sweetest man she's ever known.


	17. Chapter 17

_**An authors note---Words cannot express how much I adore each and everyone of you. I'm thrilled that this story is pulling in new readers and honored to still have those who have continued with me along the way---many from the very beginning(you know who you are). Thank You! I'm so so sorry about the delay in updates. I took last week off to recover from finals and enjoy the start of my summer, then life got incredibly busy, then I couldn't get this chapter to work out the way I wanted---well, you get the picture. I must also apologize for any mistakes that may have slipped my attention, for some reason the FF spellcheck has not been working for the over a week(and neither has the story stat tally, for that matter). Hopefully the wait was worth it, and you all enjoy this one. **_

**_Disclaimer---Glee is the property of FOX, the creators and the writers. _**

**_Lean on Me_**

Quinn was having trouble sleeping, which should be no surprise since she was the proud mother of an eight day old baby girl, who seemed to have inherited her appetite from her six foot tall, hundred and eighty pound, jock dad. Baby wasn't awake at the moment, nor had she been for the past three hours. Mommy however, had yet to even fall asleep and it was now almost 1am.

Checking first to make sure Caroline was indeed still slumbering peacefully in her crib, Quinn tip-toed down the stairs, careful to avoid the creaky spot on the fifth step. Once on the first floor, she found herself gravitating down the familiar hallway, toward the one person she was most comfortable with.

When she reached Artie's bedroom, Quinn was surprised to see the door uncharacteristically left ajar. Abbey or Alicia must have been the last to visit. They were the only two who failed to close the door behind them when they were leaving---Abbey because she forgot most of the time and Alicia, because it always gave her peace of mind to be able to hear Artie, in case he should need something.

Hand resting on the wood, she peered inside. Artie was lying on his side, facing the door. He was sleeping on top of his comforter, with just a thin blanket pulled up over his shoulders. It outlined the contours of his body so she could see that his knees were bent and pulled up slightly, probably for stability. He held his left arm against his chest while his right was hidden underneath the pillow, the only visible part were the curled fingers peeking out from above his head. His lips were parted, almost in a smile, which let out the rhythmic sound of his breathing.

He'd never looked so adorable to her---well, maybe the first time he held Caroline---but this was a very close second. Quinn immediately dismissed her selfish need to wake him and smiled to herself. Lingering at the door a moment longer, she stored the picture of a peacefully sleeping Artie into her memory bank before retreating into the kitchen to find another form of comfort.

Quinn wasn't particularly hungry, just restless. She quietly searched through the pantry, intent on finding something relatively healthy to snack on and ultimately settled on simple graham crackers and some juice. Sitting down at the kitchen table, she hadn't even made her way through the first section of cracker, when a subtle creak could be heard in the distance. It didn't take long for her to recognize the familiar sound that followed, but before Quinn could respond, the creator of that sound called out, "I thought the late night cravings were supposed to end once the baby was born."

Artie.

His voice was thick with sleep, but still warm and soothing. "Sorry I woke you up," Quinn offered apologetically.

He shrugged indifferently and gave a small smile. "I needed to shift my position anyway."

Quinn frowned. "But shifting position doesn't generally require you leave your bed, does it?" she countered pointedly, making Artie's smile twist to the side sheepishly. Thinking about it further, Quinn shook her head in disbelief and mumbled, "I really thought I missed that step."

Artie let out a soft chuckle. "It wasn't the step Quinn. I heard you pacing upstairs earlier." When she glanced up at him questioningly, he added, "You do know that your room is directly above mine."

It sounded much more like a statement than question, and Quinn immediately opened her mouth to apologize again, but a sly smirk appeared instead. "So then you were just pretending to be asleep when I was standing in your doorway a few minutes ago?" she accused playfully.

To say Artie was surprised at that revelation was an understatement if the way his eyes bugged out and his mouth fell open, was any indication. "You were watching me sleep?" It came out as a cross between a gasp and a whisper. Quinn felt her face heat up. She looked away and started chewing nervously on her bottom lip. Artie couldn't help but smile when he clarified, "Ah no, I was sleeping until I heard the ice dispenser go off."

Quinn's blush intensified as she glanced over at the frozen pieces floating in her glass of juice. She giggled. "You want one?"

"Sure," Artie replied, looking down at what he could only assume, was one of her cranberry juice concoctions. Pulling up to the table, he watched as she hurried to fix the drink, probably worried he'd change his mind once his sleepy brain realized what was in it. That thought made his smile widen a little. "Thanks," Artie said, accepting the glass. He took a sip and waited for her to return to her seat, which just happened to be right next to the space he had pulled into."Nervous about tomorrow?"

Quinn tilted her head to the side and just stared at him, amazed at how well he could read her. "I guess, a little," she replied a beat later, trying to downplay her fears. "It's weird, you know. I've only been her mother for a little over a week, and already I can't imagine having to leave her."

"She'll be in good hands though," Artie reassured her with the most brilliant smile she had ever seen.

No words were ever more true and Quinn matched his smile with one of her own. "I know she will," she nodded with certainty,"the absolute best." However, the levity was short-lived and seconds later her expression clouded over.

"But?"

Quinn let out a heavy sigh. "But as much as I love that your mom will be the one taking care of Caroline while we're at school, I hate the fact that she had to take an extended leave from work to do it."

Artie's hand brushed against Quinn's as if first asking permission to take hold. She lifted her eyes to meet his, and they both had their answers. He laid his hand atop hers and smiled. "It's only for a few weeks Quinn," he intoned with a casual pat, "and she wants to."

Quinn nodded, but her concience was being stubborn. "I thought I had everything worked out, you know? The baby would be born at the end of the month. I would have already finished with my classwork and taken my finals, so I'd only have to miss that last, lazy week of school." She took a moment to catch her breath. "But now I've missed the most important week of school and probably screwed up any chances of doing well on my exams"

"Life rarely works out the way we plan," Artie retorted casually, then flashed a playful smile. "But as for final exams, we have five classes together and over three weeks left to study---I'm not gonna let you fail Quinn."

The first half of that statement struck a chord with Quinn and her hazel eyes became misty. She regarded Artie for a moment before muttering softly, "You understand what that's like, don't you?"

Artie cringed at the question, those words taking him back to that dim school hallway, months ago. But this time the context was different, and it was Quinn asking, not Tina. And this time he did understand---even if he couldn't bring himself to openly admit it. "What, failing final exams?," he joked instead.

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes at his lame attempt to avoid answering her question, with a question of his own. "No, life not working out the way you want." Quinn watched as Artie's hand slowly left hers and retreated protectively back into his lap to join the other. Her chest clenched at the loss of contact. He sat there studying his hands for what seemed to be an eternity, but in reality was only seconds. "Artie? I---"

"When I was six, I wanted to be a zookeeper," his voice started out soft, but then he slowly lifted his head to reveal a small smile lifting the corners of his lips and he spoke with more conviction. "At seven, I wanted to be an astronaut and at eight I wanted to be either a professional soccer player---," a flush swept across his cheeks and he avoided eye contact when he admitted, "or Harry Potter."

The teasing smirk playing at Quinn's lips faded before it even had a chance to break through after she notice Artie's expression darken slightly. He glanced up to see her gazing at him almost expectantly. A beat later, Artie gave a small, self-conscious shrug."By the time I turned nine, I just wanted to be a normal kid."

Quinn felt like all the air had been knocked from her lungs. She tried to keep her emotions in check, but Artie's eyes had slowly lifted the rest of the way up and locked with hers---just as her chin started to tremble and a single tear rolled down her cheek. "I'm sorry Quinn," he sputtered in apology, "I didn't---,"

"Artie you have nothing to apologize for." Her words cut him off and she laid her hand over his. Now she was the one giving comfort. "I shouldn't have brought something like that up." Quinn took a moment to siff back her tears as she tenderly laced her fingers with his. "And of course you would understand---you understand that better than anyone I know."

"You understand it too, Quinn. Even if the circumstances are a little different," he countered in her defense. "You know what it feels like to have something completely and permanently change the rest of your life."

Quinn didn't reply immediately, just sat there silently, thinking. "For the longest time I believed that being pregnant wouldn't change anything. That I'd always be the same old Quinn." She smirked at the look that produced on Artie's face. "I know, God forbid. Right?" She may have been joking, but there was a shared sense of understanding. "But then it was all gone in an instant, my status, my friends, the Cheerios, Finn. The only thing I had left was my baby---and now she won't be with me either."

"It's scary to come back from something, unsure of who you are and where you belong," Artie sympathized. "But you won't be alone Quinn, you'll have the eleven of us to help you through it."

Quinn scooted closer to Artie, so close in fact, their knees were touching. She grasped his other hand in her free one and smiled. "You have no idea how much that means to me." His blush and shy smile were misleading and Quinn could detect a hint of sadness in his in his eyes before he self-consciously lowered his head. "Or maybe you do," she amended softly, the realization hitting her hard. She leaned forward and squeezed his hands. "You never had any friends to help you through those things, did you?"

"Quinn, this isn't about me," he countered with a dismissive sigh.

"Artie?" she queiried pressingly. His lips flatened into a thin line and he shook his head slowly. It didn't take much effort at all for Quinn to inch closer and envelope Artie into a giant hug.

"Turns out, I was never really a normal kid to begin with anyway," he whispered into her ear after a few seconds.

"What?" she gasped, backing away from him and glaring incredulously.

Artie fought the urge to smile at her cuteness that was her confusion. "What I said before about wanting to be normal," he intoned, "I'm not sure how much of it actually had to do with the accident." Her eyes narrowed even further and he had to grin. "C'mon Quinn you have to admit, some of those aspirations were pretty out there."

"You were a little boy, Artie," she returned playfully. She knew now he was just trying to make her feel better.

"Still, I'm fairly certain you need to not be afraid of animals to be a zookeeper, or suffer from vertigo to travel to space," he quipped in reply, then responded to the questioning glance she had sent his way. "I tend to throw up whenever I get really dizzy." The way Quinn's expression turned from curiosity to disgust, made Artie laugh. "Plus with the uber strong prescription I need," he paused to tap his finger against his glasses, "I would never be able to rock these lenses in wire-rimmed frames."

Determined to not let her amusement show, Quinn let out a sigh of mock frustration and swatted at his chest. Enjoying the easy banter between them, Quinn chose to ignore the fact that he failed to mention his foemer desire to become a soccer player, the one dream of his that she imagined was the most attainable at one time, and the probably hardest to lose. "You're crazy," she spat teasingly.

"Maybe? But you're my friend anyway," he countered pointedly.

Quinn's expression softened. Yes, she was his friend---and proud of it. She nodded and took his hands in hers again. "Which is why I promise to always be there for you, whenever, for whatever reason. Always."

Artie swallowed hard, then tried to clear away the huge lump that had suddenly formed in his throat. "Does um, that mean you're definitely coming back to school tomorrow?"

He sounded so hopeful. Quinn smiled. "Absolutely."

"Good," Artie replied, blowing out a dramatic sigh of relief. "Then maybe you'll be there to save my glasses if Karofsky and his goons decide it would be funny to flush them down the toilet again," he added with a playful lilt to his voice.

Quinn tried to mask the anger that was bubbling to the surface at the thought of Artie being bullied without her around. She forced a soft giggle. "Only if you promise to hold me back if feel inclined to punch the deadbeat that is my daughters father in the face when I see him." The smile had left her face and in it's place was a sad frown. "I know what I said, and I meant it---I really did." She sighed. "But I never thought he'd actually listen." Then shifted, her hands falling from Artie's grasp. "He promised to be always be there for her, but he's not. He hasn't seen her since she was born, and can't even be bothered to call to find out how she's doing. Maybe it was a mistake to---."

"No Quinn," Artie stopped her, "You made the right choice." He lowered his head regretfully, "I'm the one who made the mistake," and confessed. Glancing up to find Quinn staring at him expectantly, he shrugged."I should have told you this earlier, but I've been giving daily updates on you and Caroline, to the Glee club---Puck included."

The silence that followed was torture. Finally she responded, but in a way he was not expecting. "So that's why you've been snapping pictures constantly and recording everything from bath time to diaper changes?" she asked playfully.

Artie's head shot up and he gasped, "You're not mad at me?"

"The exact opposite actually," Quinn countered with a chuckle. "And while it doesn't change my opinion of him, I appreciate you including Noah---," her smile widened as she tilted her head to the side, "and also for taking that footage of Caroline. It's good to know that when she's a teenager and mad at me for showing it too her friends, I can tell her it was all courtesy of her Uncle Artie."

Artie became flustered at the honor of the title Quinn had bestowed upon him. He blushed and smiled that adorable grin that Quinn never tired of. Unfortunately though, she had suddenly become tired, and let out a huge yawn. "I'd better get to bed it I'm gonna wake up tomorr---," she glanced at the clock, "---in a few hours."

He nodded, still unable to form a coherent reply. But just as the words left Quinn's mouth, the red lights on the display of the baby monitor lit up. Never fails. She let out a drawn out groan.

"Go up and get her. I'll take this feeding," Artie offered without reservation.

"No, I got her." Quinn sighed heavily and moved to stand.

Artie caught her by the arm. "Really Quinn, you need to go bed," he insisted. "I've already had a few hours of sleep---."

"But I'd still have to stay down here to bring her up when she's done," she argued, talking over him.

But Artie was, as per usual, one step ahead of her. "No you don't. I can just lay her in bed with me," he countered simply, but Quinn continued to glare at him skeptically. "I used to do it all the time with Abbey. And you won't have to worry about me crushing her, I won't---especially since I can't shift without waking up."

"Artie, I---."

"Please Quinn?" he begged.

How could anyone resist those big blue eyes?

A few minutes later found herself Quinn back in the kitchen, where Artie was armed with an expertly heated bottle. She followed him to his room and waited for him to transfer before gently hading over a freshly changed and extremely hungry Caroline into his arms. And suddenly, letting her go, didn't feel like such a big deal.

_**ANx2---Have to leave a little note down here too. How awesomely sweet and sad, and amazing was Dream On? Had a few issues with some of the scenes/writing(ie, the crutches scene---not very believable. Even if he'd never used them, he would totally know he wouldn't be able to get around with the support of braces, no matter how superhuman his upperbody strength was;). And Artie's apparent lack of knowledge when it came to research being done---FYI RM, he's a total geek. He probably knows everything there is to know about his injury)But loved the rest---especially the adorable Quartie moment at the end.**_


	18. Chapter 18

_**An authors note...Nothing much to say here, except maybe THANK YOU! You guys never cease to amaze me. Ever. The next chapter will be a continuation of this one, and then we're coming into the home stretch. That makes me a little sad. But where there's an ending, there's always another beginning. Right?**_

**_Disclaimer-Glee is the property of FOX, the creators and the writers. _**

**_Lean on Me_**

Baby radar waking her up at 6:18am, Quinn let out a small sigh, relieved that she hadn't overslept. This would give her plenty of time to get ready for her first day back at school, before she'd even have to feed her daughter. However, the feeling of gratification was quickly replaced with panic when she slid from her bed to see that the crib was empty...only to remember a beat later, that the baby was bunking with Artie.

Then she felt guilty and hurried downstairs.

Even though he insisted he wanted to, and even though she was able to enjoy the best uninterrupted sleep she'd had in months because of it, Quinn still felt bad for leaving him alone to tend to his own needs, should any arise, but also to Caroline's needs as well. How could she have been so selfish? But to look at him now, laying on his left side this time, with his other arm curled protectively around her daughter...maybe the term should simply be grateful.

And still a little culpable.

Quinn knew that because of the schedule he needed to follow, Artie got up around 6am every single day without fail. It was now twenty after. Fearing her decision to let him take over the middle of the night feeding caused Artie to oversleep, Quinn moved to slip inside to wake him. Stopping short when she saw his hand twitch.

Reluctant to extricate his pinkie finger from the grasp Caroline had on it, but essential to his mobility, Artie slowly began to ease his right hand out while using his left to prop up his head. His motions were slow and deliberate, careful to not wake the baby from her slumber. Quinn froze at the door, enamored. There was just something about the way Artie moved when he didn't know people were watching. It was so natural looking and confident, not at all like the tense, self-conscious movements he displayed when others were around.

Although he was obviously most comfortable around his mother and sister, there were some times when those tendencies would surface in the comforts of their home. Occasionally around his father, but more often than not, around herself and Andy. As if Artie were trying to spare them the embarrassment of having to witness his disability firsthand.

That thought made her sad.

However, the realization that she was actually noticing these things in the first place, was starting to make her feel more than a bit uncomfortable. She didn't want to be know as the friend who turned into a creepy peeping Tom. Or worse, deemed a voyeuristic stalker chic with a disability fetish. It wasn't like that, and it really didn't have anything to do with the chair. She just appreciated Artie for all that he was...her friend especially.

So there Quinn stayed, standing in the doorway of his bedroom. She backed away slightly when he began to shift in preparation to transfer to his chair, but still with a clear view of everything he was doing. Once settled, she watched as he circled to the other side of the bed. A huge smile on his face, his gaze lingered on Caroline for a few seconds before he turned and headed into his bathroom.

Quinn waited for the door to close behind him, before making her way over to the bed. She smiled down at the peacefully sleeping form of her baby girl as she took a seat in the very spot Artie had just vacated.

It was still warm.

Busying herself with the task of refolding the blanket Artie haphazardly attempted to minutes ago, she wondered if it would be rude to take Caroline back upstairs with her now. She had no idea how long Artie would be in the bathroom and she really had to start getting ready if they were going to...

"Quinn?"

Lifting her eyes to meet his, Quinn immediately recognized the pink tinge of bashfulness coloring his cheeks. Whether it was from finding a pretty girl sitting on his bed or from finding a pretty girl sitting on his bed, after he had just finished in the bathroom, was still not clear. "Good morning," she offered cheerfully, then proceeded to ask, "How did she do last night?"

"Great," Artie returned with a sheepish smile, as he pushed off toward his bed, "drank almost the entire four ounces." He added a nod in the direction of the nearly empty bottle sitting on his nightstand, for emphasis.

"Then let out an enormous burp afterwards, I'm sure," she giggled.

"Three actually," Artie countered playfully. The surprise in Quinn's eyes made his grin widen. "The immediately fell right back to sleep."

Quinn nodded, but still felt the need to ask. "So you slept okay then?"

"Yeah, fine."

His answer was less than convincing. "Liar."

The accusation made his grin grow even wider...or maybe it was the way her eyes twinkled while she was smirking at him. "I slept fine Quinn," he assured her. "Really." Not wanting to ruin the moment with a senseless argument, Quinn let it slide...even if he did look a little tired to her. "I only had enough supplies to change her once," he added half a second later, effectively ridding himself of her focus. "So she'll probably need to be changed as soon as she wakes up."

"_If_ she wakes up," Quinn quipped as she glanced down at a perfectly content Caroline. "She looks pretty comfortable right where she's at."

Artie chuckled. "I didn't have the heart to wake her, so I waited as long as I could to get out of bed, thinking all the jostling of the mattress would do the job for me." He paused and leaned forward to reach for a tiny sleeper clad foot. "I'm glad it didn't though...it was hard enough just having to leave her alone on the bed. I don't think I could have left the room at all if she were awake."

"Why is that?" she queried curiously.

"I don't know," he replied with a sheepish shrug, "I guess I still get a little paranoid when there's potential for little ones to tumble from an elevated surface." Quinn wrinkled her face in confusion, which made Artie smile...then continue on with an explanation. "When Abbey was little, she'd loved to play this game where she'd climb on something then expect you to chase her...only I wasn't so good at the catching part. I can't even count how many times she fell before I was able to reach her." His smile faded and his expression turned wistful. "She fell off my bed when she was two and caught the corner of the nightstand on the way down," he paused to point at the spot on his own face, "that's how she got that little scar underneath her chin."

Quinn did her best to hide the emotion that was bubbling up inside of her. "I don't think we have to worry about Caroline doing anything like that for a long time," she teased lightly as her grin became genuine, "she can't even hold her head up yet."

Artie cracked a smile, maybe he was obsessing a bit prematurely.

"I can't believe she is still sleeping," Quinn commented as they both sat staring at Caroline. "I thought for sure she'd make us late with her crazy feeding schedule."

"No, I think we're doing a pretty good job of making ourselves late without her help," Artie quipped as he glanced over at the time on his alarm clock. "Not that I'm opposed to wearing my pajamas to school or anything."

Quinn followed his gaze and gasped, "Oh my God Artie, you still need to get dressed."

"So do you," he returned pointedly after a small chuckle.

She twisted her head back over her shoulder, first to look at him, then over at Caroline. "But you probably need your bed for that..."

"It would make completing the task a little easier, yes," he cut in playfully.

"And I'm just standing here, rambling like an idiot..."

Artie gently grabbed for her arm. "Quinn. It's okay."

She took a calming breath and nodded, then moved to scoop her daughter up into her arms. The baby let out a small grunt of protest, which they both laughed at, and the mood was immediately lightened.

Quinn made it to school with plenty of time to spare. And if that wasn't surprise enough, the entire Glee club was standing outside the school waiting to greet her.

"Hey baby-mama," Mercedes bellowed as she was the first to envelope Quinn in a giant hug.

"You look amazing," Kurt added, holding her at arms length and examining her from head to toe.

"You still look kinda pregnant to me," Santana mumbled from the back of the crowd, and a sea of heads turned to glare at her.

Brittany looked horrified. "Yeah Quinn, maybe they left one in there," she whispered under her breath.

Rachel stepped forward after rolling her eyes at the dimwitted blond. "Kurt's right, you do look amazing," she offered with a kind smile, and Quinn could almost sense sincerity...until she stuck her foot in her mouth. "A little bloated and puffy, maybe...but not at all still pregnant. I mean, considering how huge you were when you delivered. I'm not sure the baby would have had anymore room to grow. There was definitely no way you could have gone another month..."

"Rachel?" Finn called while clearing his throat.

She glance up to see the tall boy to her left glaring at her, and ceased her tirade. Regarding Quinn once more, the starlet added, "You'll be back into a size four in no time."

"I'm a size two Rachel," Quinn returned, the smirk on her face widening after a wink of approval was given from Tina.

"So how's Caroline?" the pretty Asian was the first to ask. Noah, standing next to her, acknowledged the question with a nod of his head. Quinn's eyes softened a bit.

"She's wonderful," mommy gushed and looped her arm with Tina as she led the group into the school. "Let me tell you all about her."

Quinn breezed through her first three classes without incident. Fourth period French class, the only class of the morning that she didn't share with Artie, was turning out to be the longest fifty-two minutes of her life. Luckily she had first lunch, scheduled right after this hellish class.

The creak of the door opening caused Quinn to lift her eyes from the page she was supposed to be writing on. She watched as Miss Talton from the office walked up to the teacher and handed her a yellow slip. Somebody was getting a hall pass. Lucky.

The two women exchanged a few words, then turned their attention over in her direction. _Shit_. She lowered her head quickly and pretended to resume working. "Quinn Fabray." _Double shit._ Her head rose only far enough to acknowledge her name had been called. "You're to report to the nurses office as soon as class is over."

_Nurses office?_ Quinn nodded dutifully, not bothering to notice that the office aide had left the room. W_hy the hell was she wanted at the nurses office? And during lunch? __Maybe it was school policy to check up on students who've recently given birth? Or maybe she needed to update her records now that Caroline was born. Yeah, that was probably it._ She glanced back up at the clock, it was going to be a very long twenty three minutes.

She turned her attention back to her work, and tried to concentrated, but an uneasy feeling lingered in the pit of her stomach. Then she remembered fourth period was when Artie was in his modified gym class. _What if something happened to him? What if he got hurt, or sick, or stuffed into a gym locker by one of the jocks? _Quinn slapped her notebook shut and sprang from her seat. "Madame Michelle?" she greeted once she'd reached the desk. "I've finished the assignment. Is there any way I can head over to the nurses office a few minutes early."

The teacher looked over at the clock on the wall and scowled, but handed over the pass anyway.

Quinn rushed from the room, nervously anticipating what was waiting for her at the nurses office. When she arrived, she wasn't particularly surprised to see an Abrams sitting there...only startled by which one. "Alicia?"

"Hi honey," she replied with a smile, as she continued to bounce a squawking Caroline in her arms. "I hope you don't mind me coming here, but I figured that since you didn't have time to feed her or pump this morning, you might want to squeeze a feeding in during your lunch hour."

Are you kidding?" Quinn breathed a sigh of relief and held her hands out for the baby. The nurse drew the curtain closed for privacy, then left the room. "I feel like I'm about ready to burst," the new mom chuckled. She urgently pushed aside the offending garments and began nursing her daughter. A sense of calmness washed over her, and Quinn knew this was exactly what she needed at that very moment...in more ways than one.

After sharing her lunch break with her daughter and Mrs. Abrams, the rest of the day flew by for Quinn. Only now it was time for Glee club rehearsal, and the new mother was dead on her feet. She took her usual seat next to Artie and waited for Mr. Schuester to start class.

"I still can't believe she did that," Quinn muttered in disbelief.

Artie grinned. "It wasn't that big of a deal Quinn," he replied with a casual indifference. "Mom would move mountains for you, so bringing your baby to school so you can feed her is nothing. She knows how much that means to you," a blush began to color his cheeks as he shrugged, "it means a lot to her too, that she can help you out with...women stuff."

Quinn smiled and wondered if any of the Abrams really knew how much they meant to her. Content, she settled down into her seat so she could rest her head on Artie's shoulder. "Don't fall asleep," he whispered the playful warning, and felt her nod...then nod off.

"Quinn?" Artie's soft voice called out and she snapped her eyes open. Giving her a moment to regain her bearings, he nudged her again and discretely motioned over to the clock on the wall.

Letting out a muffled groan, she lifted her hand in the air. "Mr. Schuester?" The teacher turned his attention toward the sound of his name. "I have to leave, Caroline has a doctors appointment at four forty-five and Mrs. Abrams will be here soon to pick me up."

"Doctors appointment," Puck intoned questioningly. "What's wrong with her?"

"Nothing's wrong with her Noah," Quinn answered through a frustrated sigh. If he'd been around the past week, maybe he'd know that. "She's a preemie, who's breastfeeding. The doctor just wants her to have weekly check-ups for a while to see how she's growing."

"Oh, she's growing alright," Artie quipped under his breath, then shared a smile with Quinn

"Okay then. Artie, I'm assuming you will be leaving early as well?," Will regarded the boy seated next to her.

"Yep, that would be my ride too," he answered with a grin.

"Alright, we'll get you two worked into this number tomorrow then," Mr. Scheuster suggested. The pair nodded agreeably, then moved to collect their things.

"You'll call me later to let me know how she does, right?"

Quinn's head sprang up, and she wondered if the question was directed toward her or Artie. She glanced down at her friend, who could only offer her a slight shrug. A mix of emotions swirling around her, Quinn finally acquiesced. "Sure."

Puck smirked satisfactorily, and was just about to turn away, when Artie nudged Quinn again. Armed with only a pair of insanely expressive eyes, he was effectively able to prompt her into extending the invitation a little further. "Noah? If you want, you could meet us there after class," she offered, reluctantly pulling the appointment information out of her purse.

True to his bad-ass image, he gave no answer, just a small indifferent shrug as he stuffed the card into his pocket and stalked off to rejoin the group...leaving Quinn to wonder if she'd made the right decision.

She was still contemplating that almost an hour later, as Caroline's name was being called and Noah was nowhere in sight. "Would you like me to go with you Sweetie?" Alicia offered kindly.

As much as she wanted to say yes, she was Caroline's mother, and the only parent currently involved in her life...better to learn these things now if she was going to be a single parent..."No thank you, we'll be okay, " Quinn stated with a forced smile, before following the nurse down the hall.

The exam itself took no time at all, and at the end, the doctor gave Caroline a clean bill of health. "That's such a relief," the new mom let out a breath she hadn't even realized she was holding. "We're heading to New York city in less than two weeks."

"And you plan on taking her with?" the doctor asked incredulously.

Isn't that what she's just said? "Of course," Quinn defended, "I have to, I'm nursing."

"I'm sorry but I'm going to have to advise against that."

"Advise against what?" she asked confused, and mildly irritated.

The doctor lifted his eyes from the chart he was dabbling on, and fixed them on Quinn. "We generally request that average newborns not travel far until after they've had their first round of immunizations...at about two months," he paused to make sure she was paying attention. "And because Caroline was pre-term, like everything, her immune system may need a little more time to mature properly. Which makes travel right now, dangerous to her health."

Quinn was stunned by the news. The doctor must have picked up on that because he asked, "How long will you be gone?"

"Three days." The only response was a curt nod, so she followed it with, "What are my options?"

The doctor shifted to sit pompously on his stool. "Well, you could stay home with your child, like any good parent would do...or you could stop breastfeeding and go on your trip." And with that he collected his things and left the room.

Tears sprung to Quinn's eyes as she looked down at Caroline and realized she was being forced to choose between her daughter and the amazing group of friends relying on her to help them win a national title.

One friend in particular crossed her mind, and those tears began to fall in earnest.


	19. Chapter 19

_**An authors note...To those of you who took the time to read and especially review over the insanely busy holiday weekend, I appreciate it so very much. Love to "see" some new faces out there, a special welcome to all of you. I hope that no one is offended that I've delved into openly discussing the way in which Quinn chooses to feed Caroline. I am a firm believer in doing what is best for ones child, but I know that mention of anatomy can be uncomfortable for some readers and I apologize for that(and warn you about this chapter in advance). **_

**_Disclaimer-Glee is the property of FOX, the creators and the writers. _**

**_Lean on Me_**

Quinn slowly walked down the quiet hall of McKinley high school the next day, dreading the thought of what she was about to do.

So engrossed with grading the papers on his desk, Will never heard the soft rapping on the door frame of his office. "Mr. Schue?"

His head jerked up at the sound of his name, and upon seeing who was standing there, broke out into a kind, gentle smile. "Oh hey Quinn. Shouldn't you be in class right now?" he asked playfully, but quickly noticed that the smile she gave in return, didn't actually reach her eyes..

"Study hall," she answered casually, "I have a pass."

Will looked at the slip of paper in her hand and frowned. "That pass is for the washroom, Quinn."

"I know." Sighing in reply, she glanced down at the floor. "I just really needed to talk with you privately...about something important."

His expression turned to concern. "So important that it couldn't wait a few hours until rehearsal, and warranted deceptive tactics to sneak out of class..."

"Study hall," she reiterated softly.

"Right, study hall" Will conceded, then motioned to the chair in front of his desk. "So, what's on your mind?" Taking the offered seat, she shifted until she was comfortable, crossed her ankles daintily, and folded her hands in her lap...but didn't speak. "Quinn?"

She glanced up, and it was obvious by her expression, that this 'something important' wasn't going to be easy for her to talk about. Will's stomach twisted, he hated to see any of his students in pain, whether it be physical or emotional. Quinn pushed a blond lock of hair behind her ear and let out a shaky breath. "I'm not going to be able to make it to Nationals."

Surprisingly, getting the words out actually did make Quinn feel better...until she glanced up to see the look of stunned shock on Mr. Schuester's face. "Wh-what? Why?"

Guilt started to bubble up inside of her, but she had to press on. "I took Caroline for her first check-up yesterday and while the doctor was please with her progress, he strongly advised against traveling with her right now not only because she's a preemie and needs to be closely monitored, but also because her immune system is not quite fully developed yet."

Mr. Schuester thoughtfully processed what she was telling him. "Okay but, couldn't you just leave her a home?," he suggested a beat later, but didn't mean for it to come out as heartless as it sounded.

"I'm um, breastfeeding," Quinn whispered as she turned a fiery shade of pink.

Will's nodded, his cheeks coloring slightly too. He really didn't want to be having this conversation with anyone...especially a sixteen year old student. But he was, and he needed to find a solution to this problem that didn't involve having one of his students back out of the most important competition of the year, less than two weeks before it was scheduled to take place. "I understand," he offered as sincerely as a man could. "Isn't it possible for you to continue to do that and still be away from her for a short period of time? I mean, you are here at school all day."

"Yes, it is possible...," Quinn started to say, but paused when that train of thought derailed. "Mrs. Abrams was kind enough to offer to bring Caroline here at lunchtime so I can feed her, and I do keep a supply of milk at home for emergencies..." she stopped again, self-consciously biting down on her bottom lip. As if she wasn't already feeling like a dairy cow, alternating from nursing to pumping every three to four hours. "...unfortunately, the problem isn't how Caroline is going to be fed...it's by whom."

Will wrinkled his forehead in confusion. "I'm sorry, I don't understand."

Lowering her gaze for a second time, Quinn abruptly stood up and began pacing the room. "The Abrams are just about the only support I have...they have been for a long time. And I know they'd do anything for me and Caroline..." her voice cracked and she needed to take a moment to clear the emotion from her throat, "But if I go to Nationals, then Mrs. Abrams can't, which means she'd end up missing her son perform."

Turns out this wasn't about her after all.

"I'm sure Artie would understand Quinn," Will tried to assure her, but only succeeded in sounding desperate. "If I remember correctly, neither of his parents could make it to Regionals..."

"Exactly," she cut in pointedly as she swiped the fallen tears from her cheeks. "It nearly broke broke Mrs. Abrams heart to miss that. And while Artie may have put on a brave face for everyone when we were in Chicago, deep down inside I know he was disappointed." Quinn swallowed hard and took in a shaky breath before continuing. "I'm painfully aware of how much it sucks to want and need your parents, but not have them be there. The only difference with his parents is that they actually want to go..." Eyelids fluttering upward, she locked her gaze with Mr. Schuester and whispered, "I can't take that away from him."

Will took a second to reflect on just how much Quinn Fabray had grown, not only as a person, but as a friend too, these past few months. "Does Artie know how you feel?"

Quinn just shook her head. "I haven't told him yet," she was quick to explain, and found the corners of her lips quirking up despite the way she was currently feeling. "He was just so happy last night...I didn't have the heart to ruin his good mood."

"He deserves to know Quinn," Will stated somberly, "All of your teammates do." He gave the young blond a sympathetic smile before pointing out, "Without a twelfth member, we will have to forfeit our spot."

Swallowing hard, Quinn nodded. "Which is why I'm telling you today, so you'll have enough time to find a suitable replacement."

Will stood up from his chair and walked around to sit on the corner of his of his desk. He took one of her hands in his, and squeezed. "I'm not sure if that's possible Quinn."

Quinn couldn't help but blush at the compliment. She'd always known that her place on the team had more to do with her impressive dance experience than her mediocre vocal abilities...a requirement that could easily be filled by any one of the thirty plus Cheerio girls. But it was still nice to feel appreciated.

She managed a watery smile and moved to stand. "We'll still see you at rehearsal today after school, right?" Mr. Schue pressed gently. A slight nod was the only reply she could muster as she walked dejectedly from the room.

"You can't do this Quinn." The despondency in Artie's usually up-beat voice, could be dected throughout the choir room.

The blond shook her head regretfully. The last thing she wanted to do was to hurt her best friend. "I don't want to Artie, but I..."

"Then don't," he told her matter-of-fact. "Mom'll stay home with Caroline and you'll..."

"No," it was her turn to interrupt. "I refuse to be the reason your mother has to miss..."

"Quinn, she's seen me on stage dozens of times. It's not like it's the last time I'll be performing..."

"It's Nationals Artie...in New York City...at Radio City Music Hall..."

Okay, he'd have to give her that one. "But Dad'll still be there, and Abbey...and with any luck, Andy will want to stay home with Mom...

"It doesn't matter what he wants, because they're both going to be there in New York, supporting you." She locked eyes with him and both her expression and tone, immediately softened. "Artie, you guys have been planning this since before we even placed at Regionals."

"An experience I would have completely missed out on if it weren't for you," he countered pointedly as he held on to her gaze. "You bent over backwards to find a way for me to go...now it's time for me to return the favor." Quinn began to lower her head, but Artie caught her chin with his finger and lifted it back up. "I know how difficult it's going to be for you to have to leave her...heck, even I'm having a hard time with that...," at Artie's intake of breath, curious glances from the others were thrown around the room, all of them avoiding one slightly confused looking Noah Puckerman. "...but it'll only be for the weekend and I'm sure my grandparents or one of my aunts would gladly watch over Caroline." He knew better than to even suggest she give the worthless set of parents who abandoned her, any consideration whatsoever. "Or my cousin Jess. She'll be home from college by then, and can stay at the house while we're gone. She's always been the best babysitter out of any of us grand kids."

Quinn was quite familiar with the extended members of the Abrams clan, and cousin Jessalyn just happened to be Artie's favorite. But again, her conscience was getting in the way."Artie, I don't know..."

"Oh for the love of Abraham," Puck bellowed as he sprang from his seat. "This shit you two are spewing is worse than those fucking Lifetime movies of the week that are always playing at my house." He turned to Quinn, "Listen MILF, you need someone to watch the kid, it should be done by family...not the freaky-ass pseudo relatives you're currently associated with." Then glanced over his shoulder at Artie and gave an innocent shrug, "No offense Abrams."

"Ah, none taken," was the skeptical reply.

Noah returned his attention back to Quinn, oblivious to fact that she was standing there, gaping at him in disbelief, and announced, "My Mom'll watch her."

"She's not going to Nationals?" Artie's voice rang out before the pretty blond could even form a response to that.

Puck shifted so he could look at both of them and simply shook his head. "We can't afford it."

"But your mother hates babies Noah," Quinn countered once she'd finally regained the use of her voice. "Or so I recall her incessantly declaring."

Puck rolled his eyes, "She's not like that," and gave and incredulous snort. "She hates other peoples babies, not her own grandchild."

Like that was supposed to make her feel better? "How would she know...she's never even met Caroline," Quinn spat defensively.

"Well who's fault is that?" he shot back.

With a narrowing glare, she countered with her own sarcastic query, "I don't know Noah...who's?"

It was evident by the thickening tension in the room, that neither party was going to back down anytime soon. Eager to get out of the line of fire, Artie tugged his chair back a few inches, just as Will stepped right into the middle of it. "All blame aside, let's see if we can't come up with a solution that would benefit everyone involved. Okay?"

At Mr. Schue's suggestion, Quinn calmed ever so slightly. "I thought she worked a second job on the weekends," she directed the question of Mrs. Puckerman's schedule toward her son.

Puck gave what looked like a shrug of annoyance, then stated, "I said she couldn't afford to spring for the two extra tixs to NYC, not that she couldn't afford to take off a couple days to watch her only granddaughter."

Quinn could detect a sarcastic bite to his words and fought the urge to let the retort that was forming, slip from her mouth. Instead she decided to look to Artie for advice, but when she glanced down at him, all she saw was an adorably terrified expression and big blue eyes darting widly between her and Noah. She almost burst out laughing, in spite of the situation.

"I'll stop by later on tonight...", Puck's voice broke Quinn from her reverie. She turned back to him. The smile that was meant for Artie, suddenly looked misplaced, but remained on her face. "...after my fight club."

Glancing over her shoulder again, this time for permission, Quinn was rewarded with a satisfactory nod and a thousand megawatt grin that she couldn't resist returning. Artie let out a sigh of relief. See, problem solved...

Or was it only beginning?

_**ANx2...I know this one is a little short and vague, but I wanted to get it up anyway. It'll all make sense in the next chapter.**_


	20. Chapter 20

**__****__****__****__****An authors note...I'm so thrilled with the continued response to this story, the favorite count has surpassed fifty+ and the alert count is headed toward one hundred. That may not seem like a big deal to some, but it means the world to me. Thanks so much guys. Okay, so this super long chapter is the one that I've been waiting and wanting to post since the very beginning. A lot of ideas for the plot to this story actually came from the conversation at the end of this chapter(one of the first things I outlined). There are also a few references to my first story in this one too(if you've read that one, see if you can spot them). It feels like it took me ****__****__****__****__****forever to get to this point, probably because I kept getting side tracked by impromptu plot bunnies that began multiplying into additional chapters. So with all previous interruptions aside, here it is.**

**_Disclaimer-Glee is the property of FOX, the creators and the writers. _**

**_Lean on Me_**

It was just another typical Tuesday dinnertime at the Abrams house...a delicious meal, wonderful company, and an even better dessert. This particular May evening found Artie and Quinn enjoying their self created ice cream masterpieces in the front yard, while watching Abbey ride her newly purchased bicycle up and down the sidewalk.

"I can't believe Mom finally caved," Artie stated with a satisfactory smile as he waved back to Abbey, who had just passed by again.

"Well with the two of you begging her around the clock for the past two months, I'm surprised she was able to hold out as long as she did," Quinn replied, smirking pointedly at him.

"Please don't tell me you agree with that logic?" he grumbled in askance, but didn't wait for an answer. "I mean freaking out because Abbey was turning eight was bad enough..." he sighed frustratedly, "...but putting off buying her a new bike because it was the same thing I'd asked for, for my eighth birthday is kind of ridiculous, don't you think?"

"Artie, I really don't think that was the reason," Quinn cut in softly. "She was worried the bike would be too big for her and she wouldn't be able to ride it safely?"

Artie rolled his eyes at what he thought was the lamest excuse he's ever heard. "Quinn, Abbey's at least three inches taller than I was when I turned eight and she's been riding a two-wheeler since the summer she turned five," he countered instead.

"You made sure of that, didn't you?" Her playful teasing made him lower his head sheepishly and blush. "Just like you made sure she got what she wanted for her birthday this year...even if it was almost two weeks late." Quinn hesitated for a second before gently adding, "And even if it may have brought back some painful memories for some."

He gave a dismissive half-shrug and let out a dramatic sigh,"You didn't answer my question."

"You didn't answer mine either," Quinn countered and let her smirk ease into a soft smile. "Maybe I don't agree to that extreme, but I can kind of understand where she's coming from now..."

"Now that you're a mom?" He was grinning genuinely now, but it was the familiar sparkle that had suddenly returned his eye that caught her attention the most. Those captivating blue eyes. She'd asked him once, early in their co-habitation, why he chose to hide said eyes behind those thick dark-rimmed frames. He answered that he did try contacts a few years back, but because of his astigmatism, they had to be a special type and those irritated his sensitive eyes. It really didn't matter to her all that much...his glasses seemed to suit him just fine.

Shaking all random thoughts aside, Quinn nodded to the previous statement that came out like a question. "Yeah, I guess," she replied, taking the pause in conversation as the perfect opportunity to lick up the quickly melting mess her forgotten ice cream was making.

"I know that a lot of Mom's anxiety over our safety has to do with the accident," Artie began between bites of his own cone, "and I'm pretty sure she was beginning to think her kids were cursed when like five weeks after Andy turned eight, he slammed into a tree while sledding with Dad, broke his elbow and had to get eleven stitches on the side of his head." There was a slight hesitation as he glanced down at his dwindling dessert, studying the jagged cone like it was the most interesting thing he'd ever seen. "But what happened to me didn't happen to Andy, and it's not going to happen to Abbey." His voice was low but confident, even if the thought of any child having to go through what he went through...especially his baby sister...sent a painful shudder through him.

Quinn followed his gaze down to where Abbey was powerfully peddling along and watched as his smile returned just at the sight of her. "You're right, what happened to you probably won't ever happen to Abbey...," her soft words trailed off when Artie turned his head in her direction, "...just like Caroline probably wouldn't get sick if I took her to New York with us next weekend." She lifted her eyes to meet his. They held that ever present warmth and something that resembled a new found connection. "I'm sure she never thought it would happen to you either," it came out barely a whisper, but was heard loud and clear. "So even if there is that slightest chance..."

"Why tempt fate. Right?" he finished for her, and she gave a small shrug of concession. Artie's lips twisted into that trademark sideways smirk. "Which is why she still purposely goes out of her way to avoid the intersection of Main and Pine at all costs and won't drive at all on a Friday the thirteenth."

"Yeah, probably," Quinn conceded, with a slightly sympathetic, but playful lilt to her voice.

They shared a friendly smile that lingered until...

"Artie, you're not watching." A sweet but demanding voice called. At the other end of the driveway, there was Abbey straddling her bike, hands on hips, staring expectantly at her brother.

Artie let out a soft chuckle. "Sorry Squirt...me and Quinn were just talking," he explained apologetically, then glanced over at Quinn with the same regretful look on his face. Abbey waited rather impatiently for him to return the undivided attention she was craving back to her, before moving to remount her bike. "Wait," he called and she froze. "How did you know I wasn't watching...if you were supposed to be facing straight ahead and watching where _you_ were going?"

His tone wasn't harsh or accusatory, just concerned. Artie could see her swallow hard then suck in her lower lip and it looked as though she was about to cry, when she suddenly burst out laughing. "You sound just like Mom."

He looked over at Quinn, who he was sure would jump to his aid, only to find her laughing just as hard as his sister. "She does kind of have a point."

"And why is that such a bad thing?" he queried defensively.

Quinn scoffed. "Just a minute ago, you were complaining about how overprotective..."

"That's different," he muttered over her words.

"Is not," Quinn argued playfully, and watched as Artie's defensiveness melted into the shy, innocent expression he usually wore when confronted.

A triumphant smile began to creep across her lips, and it grew wider once she heard a quiet "Is too" slip out from under his breath. The giggle that followed caused Artie's head to snap up...and from the playful look on her face, he knew what to expect next.

The shove to his shoulder wasn't particularly rough, but Artie made sure to exaggerate the momentum and launch his upper body over the side of his chair so he was tipping precariously on one wheel. "God, Artie," Quinn yelped and quickly sprang to her feet to right him. A relieved sigh escaped her lip once all of his wheels were safely back on the ground, until she noticed the sly smirk that was forming across his lips...revealing to her that he'd been in control the entire time. "You jerk," she gasped, and opted for the much gentler swipe across arm this time around.

"Are you guys gonna watch or not?" Abbey whined, obviously annoyed with the delay. Artie cringed at her delivery, disheartened that she was starting to sound more and more like him and Andy than the sweet innocent little girl she really was. He made a mental note to better mind his witty retorts and the use of sarcasm when the very impressionable youngster was around. "It's getting late and..."

"Nope, we're done watching," Artie cut in, leaving Abbey gaping in shock as she observed him pop the last of his cone into his mouth then push off toward the open garage, after first tugging his gloves back on.

Fearing she'd made him mad, Abbey called out pleadingly, "Wait Artie, I'm sorry. I didn't mean..."

But he didn't disappear into the house like she'd expected, instead he began coasting down the driveway, a perplexed looking Quinn following hot on his wheels. "Care to show me what you got?"

The playful challenge made Abbey break out into a wide grin. "To the park and back," she suggested and Artie nodded.

"But the park is halfway across the subdivision," Quinn quickly reminded them, forgetting for a moment that this had always been their home and both were well aware at how far the park was in relation to it.

"Then you better get geared up," Artie instructed with a nod over his shoulder. "Mom's bike is on the left, behind the lawn mower."

"Artie, I haven't rode a bike in more than a year," she countered incredulously, "and I just had a baby a little over a week ago. My doctor hasn't even cleared me for light activity yet."

"Right, sorry," Artie shrugged apologetically...he'd forgotten how fragile she still was with the quick way she appeared to be bouncing back. "Well, you could always put on her roller blades and hitch a ride with me," he offered playfully, and motioned to the handles on the back of his chair.

Even though she had seen Abbey do it dozens of times...Quinn couldn't help but giggle at the slightly off the wall, yet genuinely sweet, request. "However tempting that offer may be," she started, her eyes dancing in the warm evening sunlight, "I think I'd enjoy it more just walking beside you."

And that's exactly what she did...

On the way _to _the park.

On the way back however, Quinn was designated to judge the winner of the races that resulted every single time brother and sister found a long enough stretch of sidewalk to ride on. Consequently, the trip home took twice as long.

"That last one was a tie."

"Was not."

"We both slapped your hand at the same time."

"But you were leaning forward..."

"I had to, that's how..."

All playful banter had suddenly ceased, replaced with a split second of shocked surprise. There was Noah Puckerman, standing in the middle of the kitchen, with Caroline cradled in his arms. Quinn self-consciously cleared her throat and Artie looked up just as she was combing her long fingers through her windblown hair. "What are you doing here?"

Puck wrinkled his face in confusion as he answered indignantly, "I told you I was coming over."

"Right, yeah, I know," Quinn ended up sputtering in reply...she never actually thought he'd make good on that promise. "I thought you were coming later, after your fight thingy."

Noah glanced pointedly at the clock, "It is later."

"We got a little sidetracked at the park," Artie announced apologetically.

"That's what I figured," Mrs. Abrams chimed in, giving her son a knowing smirk before placing the plate of food she had just finished filling, into the microwave. "Just like I figured Quinn didn't have her phone on her and you must still have yours on vibrate since neither of you returned any of my calls."

Lowering his head in conjunction with his hand, Artie pulled the device from his left pants pocket and frowned. Two missed calls and a text. "Sorry," he supplied weakly.

Alicia smiled and shook her head dismissively. "Just as long as you three are home safe and sound," she stated, trying to downplay her obvious relief with casualness. "I was about five minutes from sending your father out looking for you though." Artie lowered his head to hide the growing blush of embarrassment that was creeping up his neck, which also prevented him from seeing the teasing smirk that he knew was plastered all over Puck's face at that very moment.

Mrs. Abrams acknowledged Abbey next with a pointed glance, "Passed your bedtime and you haven't even had a shower yet," before turning her attention to the time and then back to Artie. "It is pretty late. You should really think about getting yourself ready for bed soon, too," she whispered under her breath as she handed him a glass of water to drink.

Nodding self-consciously, he accepted the offer and muttered, "I will." Artie knew his mother didn't mean to draw any additional attention to his disability and the obvious need for extra time when it came to completing just about any task, especially not in front of the coolest guy at McKinley High. But sometimes her concern for him took precedence and she ended up blurting out embarrassing messages...like not so subtly reminding him that he still needed to carry out his nightly routine.

Not like he hadn't already been taking care of all of that stuff on his own since he was eleven...

The incessant beeping of the microwave broke through Artie's thoughts. "Here you go Noah," his mother announced, placing the finished plate on the island counter top. "I'm sorry but leftover chicken and rice is the best I can do this late at night."

"Thanks Mrs. A, this looks great. Loads better than that shi...," he caught himself, "...ah, stuff they try to pass off as food in the school cafeteria."

Alicia let out a small laugh, "Which is why Artie brings his own lunch."

He smiled up at his mother, but couldn't quite meet her eyes. This wasn't the time or place to inform her that he recently took using his allowance to purchase his afternoon meal from said cafeteria so that he could share his measly sack lunch with a group of less fortunate kids who didn't have the means to supply their own.

"Goodnight kids," Mrs. Abrams called a moment later as she moved to usher a sleepy Abbey upstairs.

There was a chorus of nighttime wishes and a few thank yous in there as well. "Here, I can take her," Artie offered when he noticed Puck juggling to manage his plate of food and glass of pop, with an already occupied arm.

"S'okay, I got it," Noah replied offhandedly, as he switched his drink to the other side, the one holding Caroline, then grasped the plate with his newly freed hand. "I'm pretty good at multitasking."

Artie didn't miss the pointed smirk Puck threw Quinn's way or how it made her blush, nor did he fail to realize that even without the glass of water he was currently holding, he would never be able to hold Caroline and push his chair at the same time...a recollection from back when Abbey was a baby, that hadn't even crossed his mind until that very moment.

"God she's beautiful," Noah commented on his daughter as he took a seat at the table.

"At least we know she got that much from me," Quinn quipped in return, sitting in the chair next to them. Artie followed suit, pulling up to the only open spot, on the other side of Puck.

"You did not just diss the Puckerman genes," he gasped incredulously as he motioned toward his face. "I mean seriously, have you ever seen such magnificent bone structure?"

She rolled her eyes and shook her head in mock annoyance, but that didn't stop Puck from ogling her. "Yeah I guess you are still pretty hot," he finally conceded with his smirk twisting into an approving grin.

The resulting grimace was confirmation that Quinn wasn't exactly sure whether or not that comment was to be taken as a compliment. "You're such a slob," she mutter a beat later, but the double innuendo of that statement caused him to wrinkle his face in confusion. "Lemme have her," Quinn clarified and held her hands out for their daughter, "you'll get food all over her."

After the swap was complete, Puck was able to clear his plate while carrying on a conversation with Quinn, in less than ten minutes. "You want something else?," Artie asked hospitably, the first words he'd muttered since they gathered at the table. "I think there are still some brownies on the counter and we always have ice cream in the freezer."

At Puck's nod, Artie moved his hands to his wheel rims just as the jock began rising from his seat. "Don't get up," Noah blurted, cursing his blunder before the words even left his mouth, "I mean don't go to any trouble..."

"It's no trouble," Artie casually assured him as he was backing away from the table.

Puck sprang to his feet. "Really man, I can do it myself."

"Yeah," Artie suddenly bristled in defensive, "so can I."

"Well, now that you both are up, why doesn't one of you bring me a water," Quinn suggested, using the same phrase that Noah did but without the underlying uncomfortableness that went with it, as a way of keeping the peace.

Silently, Artie grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator, then fished the container of vanilla ice cream out of the freezer and tossed it onto the island counter...with probably a little more force than was actually necessary, before circling back to the table.

"Thanks," Quinn smiled at him and he nodded in return. He looked tired, which wasn't much of a surprise since he was up with back spasms the night before. And she briefly wondered what effect the evenings trip to the park and back might have on him later. "Artie, why don't you just go to bed."

"I will," he assured her, with words sounding eerily familiar.

"Funny, that's the same thing you told Mom over thirty minutes ago," she countered pointedly.

Sheepishly he lowered his head, but not before stealing a glance over to where their guest was currently struggling to scoop frozen ice cream from the carton with nothing more than a teaspoon.

She followed his gaze and instantly knew what he was thinking, but couldn't hide the chuckle of amusement that escaped her. "I can clean up after Noah after I feed Caroline and still be in bed before midnight."

Artie gave her a skeptical look that was nothing compared to the warning glare she was shooting him. He heaved a sigh of resignation, just as Puck returned to the table with his dessert. "Callin' it a night Wheels?"

"I guess."

"Not much of a night owl, huh?" Puck quipped playfully and Artie just shrugged. "That's cool. We'll catch you later then."

"Yeah, later," he muttered under his breath and begrudgingly took off for his room.

The rest of the week went pretty much the same, with Noah spending a considerable amount of his free time with Quinn and Caroline, and Artie feeling like a third, and fourth, and fifth etc, wheel.

On Wednesday, Puck offered to drop Quinn back off at home after Glee rehearsal since she wasn't cleared to drive until the end of the week and Alicia needed to get Artie to his mid-week physio appointment. He left his track training early on Thursday so he could squeeze in a quick visit between that and his fight club meeting. And even joined the Abrams for their weekly 'family pizza night', on Friday.

"She still at it?" Artie asked as he pushed back into the middle of the family room where Quinn was trying to quiet her very fussy daughter. He handed her the pacifier he was sent to rinse off and stretched to get a better look.

"I don't know what's wrong with her Artie," Quinn muttered anxiously as she locked eyes with him. "What if she's coming down with something? Or what if it's one of those side effects of prematurity the doctor warned about...like that acid reflux thing? What if she's colicky or becoming allergic to my milk. I read in this book that some preemies develop a blockage in their intestines..."

"Quinn relax," Artie cut in soothingly, and grasped her hand for emphasis. "I changed her this morning, and there is definitely nothing blocking her intestinal tract." His playful quip of reassurance made her crack a smile. "Let's not jump to any conclusions just yet. Okay?" She nodded slowly and he continued. "For all we know, it's just a simple bout of gas."

That was the most logical conclusion considering everything she takes in is passed on to Caroline through her milk. And if the two slices of double pepperoni she ate last night were the cause of her own indigestion...she could only imagine how her baby girl was feeling right now.

Feeling the weight of the world fall from her weary shoulders, Quinn leaned down to give Artie a hug, but it was cut short by the arrival of Mrs. Abrams and her never empty basket of laundry. She handed him the baby instead.

"How is she doing?" a concerned Alicia inquired as she set the basket on the coffee table.

"Better. She's still a little grunty and whiny, but at least she's not wailing like before," Quinn answered with a relieved sigh. "Artie thinks it's gas."

"I would have to agree," Alicia replied, smiling at the adorable sight of her son doing his best to soothe the cranky infant in his arms. Her eyes met Quinn's and the two mothers shared a touching exchange that would have lasted longer if it hadn't been interrupted by the chiming doorbell.

Mrs. Abrams went to answer the door, and it was no surprise to anyone when she returned with Puck following behind her. Well, maybe no one except Quinn. "Where are your mother and sister?" she demanded, noting the absence of the female Puckerman's. Wasn't the reason for this whole little get-together was so they could finally meet Caroline?

"Yeah, about that," he sputtered nervously, shifting from foot to foot. "See, my Aunt and Nana came up for the weekend and are staying at my place. My Nana has trouble getting around, so I was wondering if I could bring Caroline over there to see them."

Alicia could see the reservation in Quinn's eyes. "They are all more than welcome to come here Noah," she offered kindly, "and of course our home _is_ completely wheelchair accessible so..."

"Yeah but my Nana uses a walker." Luckily, Puck was able to amend his reply before Artie had a chance to laugh at how absurd it sounded. "I mean she's been stuck in the car all morning and doesn't feel like going back out."

Quinn looked from Alicia to Artie and Caroline. "Sure, I guess that'll be okay," she conceded, reluctantly leaving to pack the diaper bag.

Puck was still smirking when he approached Artie. "She's a little crabby," the seated boy warned. "Had kind of a rough morning."

Noah gave a small shrug of indifference, she seemed to be pretty content right now. But when he moved to carefully pry her from Artie's grasp, Caroline let out a huge squawk of protest. "What the fuck?" Puck muttered over the resounding cries of his daughter.

Quinn rushed back into the room, dumping the car seat on Artie's lap before reclaiming the now crying baby. "This was the first time we've been able to get her to sleep all morning," the frazzled new mother groaned as she worked on soothing her worked up child. "Today's probably not a good day for you to take her Noah."

"But they're only here for the weekend and you're busy tomorrow," he pointed out, whining like a three year-old.

"Whatever," Quinn groaned in surrender.

"Maybe the ride'll calm her," Puck added a beat later. "I got Hummel's dad to fix the suspension and put a cap on the muffler, for a very sweet deal."

"You brought your truck?" Quinn gaped at him incredulously.

"What else was I gonna drive?" he countered, just as sarcastically.

"Your mother's very sensible sedan, maybe?" she suggested.

Noah snorted indignantly, "Sorry, but Puckasaurus _can not _rock a sedan."

"Well, _sorry about that Puckasaurus_, but this mother is not letting her daughter ride in that death trap. Ever."

It was obvious she wasn't about to back down. But then again, neither was he. "Then you drive."

Quinn scoffed, "So what, I'm just supposed to drop everything and..." Her words trailed off when she realized, that yeah, that's exactly what she was expected to do now that she was somebodies mommy. Looking apologetically down at Artie, Quinn let out a very heavy sigh, "Rain check?"

"Sure," he whispered and gave a small nod as he tried to hide his disappointment behind a forced grin. "I can get Dad to drive me later."

Quinn managed an appreciative smile. One that widened considerably when Artie graciously pulled back the handle and harness straps on the infant carrier so that she could easily slip the baby into it. Once Caroline was safely buckled, Artie handed Quinn the diaper bag she'd dropped at his feet and watched as she wordlessly left the house with Puck.

The curious exchange that had just taken place had Alicia a bit perplexed, she had every intention of asking Artie what he thought, but before she could even form a logical question, she was summoned to the kitchen by a rather excited sounding Abbey. When she returned more than ten minutes later, she was surprised to find the room had been straightened up and her laundry was being neatly folded.

"What are you doing?" she asked with a soft chuckle.

Artie glanced over his shoulder and grinned at her. "Tomorrow's Mother's day...thought I'd get a head start on your gift."

Alicia smiled back as she gently gave his shoulders a squeeze from behind, before ruffling a hand through his hair. "I never thought I'd be saying this to my teen-aged son, but don't you have anything better do on a Saturday afternoon besides sit around with your mother and try to match up teeny-tiny baby socks?" she jibed playfully.

Artie added the little t-shirt he had just folded to the pile collecting on his lap and gave a sheepish shrug. "No, not really." The honesty of his answer made something in her chest clench, but it was the look on his face that actually brought her to tears. It was that same expression she remembered him wearing when he was younger and Andy's friends would come to the door asking if he could play, or invite him to parties and playdates. That slightly longing, guardedly hopeful, bravely accepting face that broke her heart each and every time...because no one ever came for Artie.

"You and Quinn had plans, didn't you?" Alicia managed to ask after a few painful seconds and a cough to clear her throat.

"She was gonna take my to the mall to pick something up," he replied, trying his best to sound indifferent, "but I can just ask Dad to do it now."

Alicia had a sinking suspicion that 'something' had to do with her and Mother's day...and that made her feel even worse. Taking a seat on the couch next to where he was parked, Alicia grabbed a handful of clothing from the basket and began helping. "We used to do this together when Abbey was a baby, remember?"

Artie broke out into a wide grin and nodded. "Yeah, but Abbey was never this small," he quipped, holding up the newborn sized onesie, that was still too big on Caroline, up for emphasis.

Alicia smiled at the way her sons face lit up when he spoke of Caroline, or when he held her, or just when they were in the same room together. He always had a soft spot for little ones, but she couldn't help but feel that maybe there was something else. "She's captured your heart, hasn't she?" mother asked son innocently.

Artie's head shot up in alarm. "What, who?"

"Caroline," she answered, a bit perplexed by his startled reaction.

But then his smile returned and he began to blush. "Yeah, maybe," he confessed sheepishly, and lifted his eyes to meet his mothers. "Just don't tell Abbey, okay?"

Alicia let out a small chuckle of laughter. "Your secret is safe with me," she assured him.

They spent the next few minutes in a quiet routine of sorting and folding, passing and stacking. "You know Honey," Alicia finally broke through the silence when this fleeting suspicion wouldn't leave her head, "it would be perfectly normal that in spending all this time with Caroline, you might also start to develop feelings for Quinn as well."

_Where the hell did that come from? _

"What? No. Quinn and I are just friends," Artie scoffed.

"It's obvious you two care deeply for one another," she returned observantly, "and while these feelings take time to develop..."

"Mom," he cut her off in the middle of that thought. "It'll never be anything more."

"Why not?" she queried playfully. It was obvious to her that they liked each other.

A deep sigh escaped and he shook his head before locking her gaze. "C'mon Mom...look at me?"

Those words cut threw her like a knife.

Artie had no idea tears could fall that fast, but what he hadn't realized is that his mother had been holding these particular tears back for some time now. He instantly felt guilty and reached out for her hand.

"I am," Alicia choked out as she squeezed his hand in hers, "and do you know what I see? I see the sweetest, kindest..."

"Smartest, funniest, most talented, handsome young man ever," he finished for her, in the most sarcastic tone he could muster.

"You said it," she returned pointedly as she wiped the tears from her cheeks.

Artie let out a frustrated sigh, "That's because you've been drilling it into my brain since I was nine years old."

"Well I wouldn't have said those things if I didn't believe them," she argued defensively.

"But you have to say them, you're my mother," he countered, hesitating for a moment before slipping his hand out of hers and placing both of them on the push rims of his chair, in preparation to leave. Which is exactly what he did after muttering, "And while I may be all those things to you Mom...to everyone else, I'm just the nerd in a wheelchair."


	21. Chapter 21

_**An authors note...I am so sorry for the long delay in getting this chapter up. I have been trying to get at least one chapter up a week, but real life has been making that near impossible. Your responses to this story have been so amazing and appreciated and continue to inspire and humble me. Thank you all so very much. I wanted to get the little plot twist I cooked up, into this chapter before I send the kids to New York for Nationals because I felt it needed to be done and, well, Lima Ohio just isn't that big. **_

**_Disclaimer-Glee is the property of FOX, the creators and the writers. _**

**_Lean on Me_**

After Artie all but stormed out of the family room, Alicia decided not to press the issue of him possibly developing feelings for Quinn any further. She hoped he would talk to her when, and _if, _he was ready to.

Mother and son had always been exceptionally close, so it should have been no surprise when just twenty minutes later he wordlessly cornered her by the kitchen sink, wrapped his arms around her waist, and uttered a muffled apology into her side.

But for Alicia it was.

Though their arguments, if you could even call them that, had always been few and far between, and this was probably the most heated, even if neither one of them had raised their voices much at all...Alicia couldn't help but feel guilty about possibly overstepping her parental boundaries when she called Artie out on something, that to her, was just a simple observation.

With tears filling her eyes again, Alicia held him tight and pressed a lingering kiss to the top of his head as she whispered her own "I'm sorry too", before releasing him over to Art, who was waiting to take him to the mall.

As vowed, there was absolutely no mention by Alicia of her and Artie's conversation later on that afternoon, only the play by play from a weary Quinn of her meeting with Puck's extended family. Which ironically, was not as horrendous and she had anticipated. It was a relief to have Noah's family begin to accept the youngest Puckerman, and without too much emphasis on Caroline being half Gentile.

Quinn also mused that it would have been an almost tolerable visit if her daughter hadn't puked all over her father and great-grandmother, the minute they got there.

"So, are you going to be okay with leaving her now?" Artie asked later that night as he and Quinn sat at the kitchen table, mulling over the English assignment that was due Monday.

"Probably not," she answered with a rueful smile. "But I guess I'm gonna have to be, since it's really the only option I have."

"No. You could still ask my cousin to watch her," Artie suggested, then gave a small self-conscious shrug. He tilted his head and looked at her pointedly. "Or you could just drop out and not go at all like you were going to."

"You'd really let me do that?" Quinn asked, raising a skeptical brow.

Artie shook his head as he blushed and smiled. "Not a chance."

The next day was Mother's day, a day that filled Quinn with a myriad of emotions. Smiling down at her daughter nursing contently, she was overjoyed, and a little nervous, to be spending her first as a mother herself. Indifferent at not being able to share this day with her own mother. And confused because she was _that _okay with it.

The telltale sound of Artie's chair lift ascending the stairs, broke Quinn from her reverie. She gingerly lifted Caroline onto her shoulder and made herself presentable, before slipping from her bed. As she got closer to the door Quinn could hear the muffled sounds of hushed arguing out in the hall...

"Here, gimme that."

"No, Andy...I wanna do it."

"You'll spill it. Give her the flowers instead."

"But I carried this all the way up the stairs without spilling anything."

"Yeah, and it took you longer than it took Artie to get up here."

"Good morning," Quinn greeted, smirking as she pulled the door open on the unsuspecting trio.

"Happy Mother's day," the startled three rang out in unison, and Quinn's smile reflexively widened at hearing the 'first' Artie had slipped into the middle of the salutation.

"You're supposed to be in bed," Abbey blurted not a half a second later.

Quinn regarded the demanding eight year old questioningly. "Why?"

"Because it's not breakfast-in-bed...if you're not actually in the bed," the youngster returned, very pointedly.

"Oh right," Quinn replied with a dutiful nod, stealing a glance at an equally amused Artie, before quickly clamoring back into her bed. After carefully laying Caroline into the space next to her, she turned to receive the tray that was being carried in by a half awake and surly looking Andy. He begrudgingly padded over to Quinn and grumbled something that sounded suspiciously like 'enjoy' as he lowered the tray over her lap...she had to bite the side of her cheek to keep from laughing out loud.

"This is a tradition," Abbey explained, bounding up to the bed with a simple little vase of the multicolored tulips Quinn recognized from the front yard. "We wake up extra early to make Mommy breakfast every Mother's day and bring it to her in bed."

"You guys made all of this?" Quinn was clearly impressed as she glanced down. "Wow."

"We each made you one. Mines supposed to look like a heart, but that didn't come out too good," Abbey intoned, with a slight hint of disappointment. "And Andy said we hafta give the prettier ones to Mommy."

Quinn agreed wholeheartedly and smiled at the little girl. "Of course."

"I said _nicer _ones," Andy tried correcting under his breath, but Abbey just ignored him.

"Artie made this one," she giggled, pointing to the very large pancake at the very bottom of the stack that completely filled the entire surface of the plate.

"Geeze Artie," Quinn teased playfully as she lifted her dancing eyes to find his. But when she did, her chest clenched tightly. There he sat, just where she'd left him, just outside her door. Getting caught up in the moment, Quinn had momentarily forgot that Artie couldn't get inside her room without some extreme measures, and that wasn't going to happen with the tray of food, obviously meant for Alicia, currently seated on his lap.

"The batter got away from me," he revealed, lowering his head sheepishly. "It's kinda hard to see inside the pan when you're eye-level with the burners."

"This is so sweet," she giggled, even though tears began pooling behind her eyes.

"Artie said since you're a mom now, you should get one too," Abbey beamed happily, glancing from Quinn to her brother and back again.

The tears began to spill down her cheeks and Quinn couldn't decide if it was from the gratitude she felt for this kind gesture, or because Artie was stuck out in the hall. When really, all she wanted was to be sharing this moment with him. "Thank you," she whispered, sending a heart-felt smile his way.

He held her gaze for a few seconds before breaking out into a grin, wider than Quinn had ever seen. Something bubbled up inside of her and she felt the sudden urge to laugh.

His infectious smiles tended to do that to her.

"Wait," Quinn called out a second later, regarding the monster breakfast in front of her, as she wiped the moisture from her eyes, "I thought you said we were going to brunch after church."

"We are," Artie replied casually and shrugged. "But by the time everybody meets up at the restaurant and shuts up enough to order, we probably won't end up eating until sometime between lunch and dinner. So it wouldn't actually be brunch then...more like lun-ner."

This time, a laugh did escape her lips.

And his too.

There was something about Artie today, something different. He seemed a little sweeter, a little more sincere, even a little more adorable to her...if that was at all possible. Quinn couldn't exactly put her finger on why that was, but she knew she had to thank him properly for all that he had done.

Unfortunately, just as she was about to slip out of bed, Andy entered her field of vision. "Yeah okay, whatever...Mom's food is getting cold. Let's go," he grumbled impatiently.

Quinn stood up in time to see Andy walk up to Artie and snag the tray from his lap. She was able to take one step forward when Abbey suddenly appeared in front of her. "Happy Mother's day Quinn."

"Thank you," she replied with a smile, then bent down to accept the open arm invitation for a hug. The embrace itself only lasted a second or so, before Abbey went skipping out of the room to catch up with her brothers. Quinn watched Artie stopped, just to throw one more smile over his shoulder at her.

If there was one thing Quinn learned about the Abrams and their extended family from living with them all of these months, it was that they really knew how to throw a party. It was almost as if they didn't understand the meaning of the words small or quaint. No. When they got together is was a major event, and their annual Mother's day brunch/lunch, proved to be no different.

Quinn was in absolute awe at the reception she got just by walking into the semi-private room Artie's maternal grandparents had reserved for their family and all of the Abrams. It almost felt as if her and Caroline were the guests of honor at the way everyone showered them with well wishes. There were even a few gifts from those who didn't have a chance to come and visit right after Caroline was born.

The party was in full swing, with the buffet almost set up to be served, when Abbey wrinkled her nose and announced, "Caroline's stinky."

Artie couldn't help but agree as he glanced over his shoulder at Quinn and heeded a warning of his own, "Yeah, that did not sound good." She nearly laughed the entire way to the restroom as she thought of the sympathetic yet slightly frightened look he'd given while passing the baby back to her. Quinn mused Artie must have changed Caroline's diaper enough times in the past two weeks to know exactly what she was capable of.

"There we go. You feel better now, don't you?," Quinn cooed to her fresh scented baby girl as they walked from the restrooms which were located at the front of the restaurant, back to the party room near the back. "All clean and..."

"Quinny?"

Quinn's ears started buzzing and her chest constricted. Turning around only confirmed her suspicions. "Mom?" Her knees immediately went weak and Caroline began to feel like she weighed two tons instead of the seven and half pounds she really was.

"Hello darling."

Quinn cringed but steeled herself enough to briefly glance beyond her mother at the others sitting at the table. Her father, sister and brother-in-law. "Happy Mother's day," she turned back and offered curtly, willing her resolve to hold up long enough for her to get back to the Abrams.

"To you as well I suppose," Judy's shaky voice rang out once again before her eyes welled as they laid upon the infant nestled in her daughters arm. A shock at seeing her granddaughter for the first time.

Quinn smoothed the tiny yellow dress with little pink roses over Caroline's thigh and gave a small nod of acknowledgement. Judy stood.

"She's beautiful. What's her name?"

"Caroline Grace," she found herself answering absently, when in reality, Quinn wanted nothing at all to do with these people. She did not want to talk to, see them...even be in the same county as her so-called family. And yet here she was, forced into having a conversation with them.

"That's lovely," Judy replied, her lips quirking up in a tight smile. "And your great Aunt Grace will be thrilled to find out you named her after..."

"I didn't," Quinn spat, stunned at the audacity that her mother would actually assume she would name her baby after a family member who knew that she was pregnant and in need, yet did nothing to help her. "She's named after someone else."

Judy gave a surprised nod of understanding, then quickly changed the subject. "You look well."

Quinn smiled at this. "I am. Very well." It felt so good to be able to say that and mean it.

Another nod, but this one was heavy and paired with a pained expression. Quinn almost faltered. She decided now would probably be a good time to excuse herself.

"She doesn't look much like you...or like Finn at all."

"That's because she's not Finn's," Quinn shot back, even though it was obvious her sister already knew this.

It was clear from the unmistakable look of disdain on her fathers face that he was the only one at the table not privy to that little piece of information. So not only was his youngest daughter a slut, but she was a cheating slut as well.

"There you two are. I was getting worried." Quinn whipped her head over her shoulder. _God Artie, not now_. As much as needed her friend for support right now, she did not want him to get caught in the middle of this monumental freak show. "We're just about to sit down to eat," he called out, coasting over to her with a smile on his face, until..."Woah."

"Him?" Mr. Fabray barked in disbelief as he rose to his feet.

Quinn was just about to yell at her father for being the bigoted ass that he was, when Avery yanked on the sleeve of his shirt and whispered, "No Daddy, Noah Puckerman."

"A Jew?"

Of course that would be the next thing that came out of his mouth. Although Quinn wasn't exactly sure if he was more relieved to find out the father of his grandchild was Jewish rather than in a wheelchair. "Yes Daddy, which makes Caroline half Jewish." She narrowed her eyes and took in a breath. "And the family that has taken me in...the Abrams...well Mr. Abrams is also half Jewish, so I've celebrated Hanukkah, and Passover as well as learned more about being a good Christian from a..."

Quinn wasn't even aware of how venomously she was rambling until she felt Artie's warm hand on the small of her back. "C'mon," was all he said as he guided her away from the scene that was about to erupt.

They had only made it a few feet when Quinn stopped abruptly, nearly causing Artie to ram into her. And there, in the middle of the crowded restaurant, she broke down.

Artie looked around for someplace private she could go to cry, without having to go back through the front of the restaurant to reach the restrooms or the exit. He finally spied an unoccupied corner that he ushered her into. "Hey Quinn, it's okay." And with that she was in his lap, sobbing into his shoulder.

"You're okay now," he muttered after some time, probably more to himself than to her, as he ran his hand up and down her back. "God, what did they say to you?"

Quinn let out a rueful laugh and wiped the tears from her cheeks with her free hand. "It's what they didn't," she replied sniffling as she looked down at her peacefully oblivious daughter, sleeping in her arm. "They didn't even ask when she was born or how much she weighed and measured or if she was healthy...all the stuff that they should already know about their only grandchild." Quinn paused to shake her head. "Did you know my mother didn't even tell my dad that Puck was the father?"

Artie tilted his head to rest against the top of hers as he ran a gentle finger over Caroline's clasped hand. "Saturday April 24, 2010, 10:36pm, six pounds, three ounces and eighteen and a half inches." He felt her smile against his damp shoulder.

"Everthing okay?"

Artie looked up to see Alicia standing in the archway they were tucked in against. He tried to control the blush that was spreading across his face at being caught in such a compromising position. Quinn just nodded silently and Artie took this as his cue to mouth the word 'later' to his obviously concerned, yet slightly satisfied looking mother.

"Well, the food is ready," she said as a suggestion to come and eat, but at the same time giving them the freedom to return at their own will. She moved closer to Quinn in a silent gesture that asked if she wanted her to take Caroline back with her.

Quinn nodded again as she rose to her feet, then surprised the unsuspecting woman by pulling her into a huge embrace and whispering into her ear, "I hope I can be just half as good a mother as you are."

_**ANX2...I kind of feel the need to explain this chapter. I initially did not plan on Quinn having any interaction with her family, but in the process of writing the mother's day scene, thought it would be a good place to put it. I am also very aware that I've thrown Caroline into situation where she could be exposed to some germs, though I believe that the risk at a local restaurant is far less than taking her on a trip all the way to New York City at only three weeks of age. Oh, and I love writing the Alicia/Quinn, mother/daughter type relationship.**_


	22. Chapter 22

**__****__****__****__****An authors note...I am so very pleased at how warmly the last chapter was received, especially with all the angst and the reintroduction of the Fabray's into Quinn's life. Thank you all. I know that I said, a few chapters back, that we are almost at the home stretch, and that is still true...it's just been stretched a little longer than anticipated. I'm sorry to keep you all lingering here, but I just keep finding things to write about and I've fallen so deeply in love with the family I've created here, that I'm having a hard time making it end. But it will, I promise, and hopefully it will be an ending you all love as well. For now though, we need to get through Nationals.**

**_Disclaimer-Glee is the property of FOX, the creators and the writers. _**

**_Lean on Me_**

Lucky for Quinn, the impending performance at Nationals coming up in just days, left almost no time for her to dwell on that unpleasant encounter with her parents. Plus having Artie and his family around, always made dealing with the difficult stuff a lot easier.

Mr. Schuester was pretty insistent that every member of Glee club attend each of the four, two and a half hour rehearsals they had left...and that included those athletes in the club who were currently involved in baseball and/or track and field as well as Coach Sylvester's busy Cheerios.

This was, after all, the show choir national championships.

Meeting up after school at about 2:45, rehearsal generally ran until about 6pm. There was a fifteen minute vocal warm-up followed by a run through of the songs. If all of the vocals went well, the group would then move on to practicing the dance numbers. This part usually took the longest and once Mr. Schue was satisfied with the way the kids looked up there on stage, he'd have them perform the entire routine at least two times, but never more than three. He didn't want to wear out their voices this close to the competition, especially those of his trio of star singers, Rachel, Mercedes and...Artie?.

It was suggested a few weeks back that while Finn would continue to maintain the male lead in all of the dance numbers out of what was deemed necessity, Artie would be the one to carry the vocals...even if that meant there would be the possibility that he'd have to sit off on the side of the stage with just a microphone and/or his guitar, and sing while the rest of the group danced around him.

Most of the club was already well aware that Artie had started out as the male lead, but was quickly pushed aside when Mr. Schuester found that strapping football player with a decent voice and two working legs, known as Finn Hudson to fill that spot...even if those working legs seemed to be afflicted with two left feet. And no one really had a problem with that before, including Artie himself...until now.

Quinn was not about to let her friends many amazing talents continue to get overlooked because he was in wheelchair. And dancing, she insisted, _was_ one of those talents. If Artie were going to sing the male lead, then he should be front and center on that stage and not pushed off to one corner or another where he was usually placed, she'd all but demanded a beat later.

And out of the blue, Finn agreed with her. This was for the national title, and he knew he didn't have the 'chops' as he called them, to fill Artie's ugly loafers.

_"Okay Quinn, since this is your idea, how do you suggest we pull it off?" Mr. Schue asked as soon as Finn announced that he was stepping down._

_Quinn smiled and immediately pitched her idea. "We could tweek the choreography a bit and incorporate two couples in the center instead of just one..."_

_"That's ridiculous Mr. Schuester," Rachel protested. There was no way she would allow the prettier, more graceful Quinn to weasel her way into the spotlight. Her spotlight. "If we do that..."_

_"Or," Quinn cut in, flashing a pointed glare at Rachel before her gaze softened and hesitantly shifted back to Artie, "we could just have the lead vocalists paired together like always." Her heart sank as the words left her mouth, but nearly broke in two at the deeply disappointed look they produced in Artie._

_"I'm sorry Mr. Shuester, but I will have to object to that arrangement as well," Rachel balked, even louder than before."I..."_

_"Girlie, don't tell me you're dissin' on my boy." __Everybody turned to see Mercedes jump up from her seat and place a protective hand on Artie's shoulder. "Cause he can dance circles, both literally and figuratively, around that crush of yours and you know it."_

_"No need to get so melodramatic Mercedes," Rachel countered, managing to sound indifferent to the accusation as she rolled her eyes for flair. "This has nothing to do with Artie's abilities as..."_

_"So it has to do with Finn then," Puck interjected smugly._

_"No, I didn't say that..." she sputtered in reply and avoided all eye contact with everything but the floor. Sure, indirectly she supposed. It's not like she was all that thrilled by the prospect of having Quinn partnered with a currently single Finn, but having to dance with a boy in a wheelchair was going to put her image at stake, and image took precedence over all else. She decided to dismiss Noah's comment and went straight to the decision maker. "Mr. Shuester..."_

_"Hold on Rachel," Will interrupted, lifting his hand up to silence her, "I think Quinn has come up with some pretty interesting ideas here." He turned his attention back to the blond. "I really like the concept of having the two couples up front. And it would be the logical choice since you guys are already so comfortable with your current partners." While Mr. Schuester's paused, Quinn took the time to smile down at Artie. "But I also think it would be nice to switch off partners a little, especially in the middle of the song, so that the leads have some interaction together." _

_He hesitated again as he cautiously scanned over the group in question. "Everybody okay with this arrangement?"_

_Finn shrugged and wrinkled his forehead in confusion. "So by switching partners, you mean I'd hafta dance with Quinn, right Mr. Schue?...Not Artie."_

_Will grimaced slightly as he answered, "No Finn, not Artie."_

_The boy blew out a sigh of relief and broke out into a goofy grin. "Okay, yeah...that's fine with me."_

_"Mercedes?" Will asked next._

_"You know I'm down with that Mr. Schue," she returned saucily as she chuckled and shared a high-five with Artie._

_It was clear by the huge smile spreading across Artie's face that he was also on board and it was Quinn's idea, so that just left..._

_"Rachel?"_

_The diva let out this painfully annoying, overly dramatic sigh and threw her hands up in the air. "It's obvious the majority has already ruled Mr. Schuester," she griped bitterly. "And it seems to make no difference to anyone that I have years of performing experience..." _

_Will left Rachel to continue on with her rant as he imagined how this small change in choreography might look on stage. He smiled to himself. "I really think this could work."_

...

Even though his ultra light titanium chair didn't weigh much more than her newborn daughter, Artie insisted that Quinn wait until the doctor cleared her to resume normal activities such as driving and lifting things heavier than Caroline, before he allowed her to get them to and from school every day.

There was a celebratory pizza party in the auditorium after the very last rehearsal that Thursday. And Quinn and Artie made sure they got to school extra early on Friday so that they could see their friends off.

Neither one of them was particularly heartbroken over the fact that they, again, would not be riding to the competition with the rest of the club. If a ten hour bus ride with Rachel Berry wasn't enough of a reason to take the pass, having to leave Caroline a day earlier than absolutely necessary, definitely was.

The Abrams must have sensed this too, because the day after Quinn agreed to leave Caroline with Mrs. Puckerman for the weekend, Art announced that the entire family would be flying out to New York the morning of the competition, instead of driving out the day before like the others. Of course he cited the need to use up at least some of the massive airline miles he'd accumulated from his many business trips, but Quinn knew he was considerate enough to factor her complex situation into the equation. And she figured a shortened trip that would be much easier on all of them, especially Artie, than a lengthy car ride would.

Friday night was filled with packing and a last minute necessity run to the store. Even though it was just an overnight stay, Quinn was having trouble focusing on what she should bring. Wandering through the house, she suddenly found herself in front of Artie's open door.

"Need any help?"

Artie threw his head over his shoulder and smiled, "No. I'm perfectly capable of folding my own underwear. Thanks."

That small bout of word vomit made him blush and Quinn laugh. "I was thinking more along the lines of, do you need help reaching anything," she countered playfully.

"Ah no, I think I'm good," he replied sheepishly as he shoved the last of his clothes into his suitcase and zipped it up.

He was caught by surprise seconds later, when Quinn tugged the bag from the edge of his bed and replaced it with herself. "Excited?" she asked, lifting her brow curiously.

Artie couldn't help but smile at the way her eyes sparkled as she continued to bounce slightly on the mattress. "Not really," he teased, "but I can see you are."

Quinn scoffed, "How could you not be excited?"

"No, I am," Artie amended, lowering his head slightly, "just a little nervous too."

He heard Quinn let out a soft giggle and lifted his eyes to meet hers. "What do you have to be nervous about?" she quipped. "You're gonna be great."

Artie blushed at the compliment. "I hope so," he replied, then paused and gave a small, self-conscious shrug. "But it's not really the performing part that's giving me butterflies, it's the getting there part...I'm not a big fan of flying."

Quinn raised a curious brow. "Didn't you guys fly out to Disney World last summer?"

Artie nodded. "Yeah, but the last time I flew before that was when I was seven." He let out a rueful sigh. "Traveling with the chair is kind of a hassle."

"But it's safe, right?" Quinn pressed, her expression turning from curious to concerned. "That's why you went to the doctor yesterday."

"There are some things I have to watch out for, but yeah, he gave me the okay to go," Artie answered casually as he picked up a prescription bottle off of his nightstand, "and this."

Quinn took the bottle from Artie and tried to decipher the hieroglyphics printed on the label. "It's for motion sickness," he admitted sheepishly. "I've gotten pretty good at dealing with being disconnected to the lower half of my body, but flying seems to disconnect my head from the rest of me...except when my brain sends weird messages to my stomach. It's not a good feeling...and forget about when there's turbulence..."

Artie's words were cut short by Quinn's movements. "Don't worry. I'll hold your hand if we hit bad weather..." she assured as she reached out to give his hand a squeeze for emphasis, "...and if your stomach decides to do any weird things, I'll be there to rub your back.

He lowered his gaze to rest on their clasped hands and tried not to think about throwing up in front of Quinn. That would be far too humiliating. "Thanks," he managed with only a slightly awkward hesitation to follow. "And I'll be there to talk to or as a shoulder to cry on if you get homesick."

Quinn knew he really meant that he'll be there to comfort her when she breaks down tomorrow, after she has to leave Caroline. Which she knew, was totally inevitable. "Promise?" she asked, glancing up through the tears she was fighting so hard to hold back.

"I promise," Artie replied, lifting her hand to his lips, and sealing it with a kiss.

...

The Abrams, both honorary and original, arrived in New York relatively unscathed. Of course, there were some tears shed when Caroline was handed over to Mrs. Puckerman...and not all from Quinn...and a squeeze or two when the plane hit a particularly rocky patch of air. Thankfully, the only real hiccup was having to wait a little longer at the airport for their wheelchair accessible rental van to take them to Radio City Music Hall.

As soon as they got there, Quinn and Artie were whisked off by the rest of the group, leaving Art and Alicia with nothing left to do except unload their bags at the hotel and take the younger kids to get something to eat before returning for the performance that was scheduled for later that afternoon.

Quinn had just finished changing into her costume for the group number, even though it was still hours away. She was fixing her make up in the mirror of the dressing room when a shiny silver package bounced off of her arm. As she bent down to retrieve it, a voice called out from the doorway.

"That's from Wheels," Noah announced and stepped into the room. "He wanted you to eat something."

Quinn looked down at the slightly crumpled granola bar in her hand, a staple she knew came from Artie's backpack, and smiled. "Where is he?" she asked, not bothering to look up as she unwrapped the snack and popped a broken piece into her mouth.

"Hummel cornered him in the guys john," Puck replied casually, "some problem with his hair."

He'd gotten her attention now, and she looked up at him incredulously. "What problem? There was nothing wrong with his hair."

Noah let out a deep chuckle. "According to Hummel there was."

"Oh, poor Artie," Quinn groaned under her breath before taking another bite.

Puck resisted the urge to respond to that comment and shifted a little closer. "I just talked to my mom."

Quinn looked up in surprise. Her throat seized a little but she still managed to swallow the food in her mouth, before forcing a smile. "How is she doing?" she asked longingly.

"Okay I guess," he answered with an indifferent shrug, "a little tired. She's not really used to..."

"I meant how's Caroline," she ground out in exasperation.

"Oh yeah, she's fine," he said, finally giving Quinn the news she wanted to hear. Noah smiled. "I could hear her in the background."

Quinn didn't return the gesture, only wrinkled her forehead worriedly as she asked, "Crying?"

Puck shook his head. "No, just squawking."

That should have been a relief to hear, but then Quinn glanced up at the clock and frowned. "She should be asleep now."

"Hey guys," Mike called, peeking his head into the room, "Mr. Schue wants us all on deck."

And so with a reluctant nod, Quinn followed the boys out of the room and tried to push all thoughts of her daughter out of her mind.

Fortunately, one look at Artie sitting backstage, trying his best to keep his fingers off of his gelled up new doo, made her concern almost completely melt away.

Walking up to take her place beside him, she leaned forward slightly and whispered teasingly into his ear, "You know, if it was parted to the side you'd look just like Dad."

"Very funny," he tried to grumble back, but it came out as sounding more playful than anything. He couldn't help it, hearing her talk like that made him happy.

The change, however subtle that it may have been, became noticeable not long after Caroline was born. He found Quinn still calling his parents by their first names at home, and referring to them as Mr. and Mrs. Abrams to others...but she'd completely dropped the 'your' when acknowledging them to him or his siblings. And that made Artie smile every time.

She straightened a little and her hand moved from the handle of his chair to his shoulder. "Thanks for the snack."

Artie tilted his head to look up at her. She was smiling down at him. "Well at least one of us got to actually _eat _something," he returned jokingly, "all I got was a mouth full of hairspray."

He felt her give his shoulder a gentle squeeze and was just about to cover her hand with his, when Mr. Schuester announced it was, "Showtime."

...

Tears came easily for many in the audience as they watched New Directions, the underdogs from Lima Ohio, give their all and belt out the lyrics to David Cook's Time of My Life, as their finale song.

The tears didn't stop for Alicia as the club members and their families gathered for a late celebratory dinner not long after the performance that brought the house down. She beamed tearily as she watched Artie interact with his friends. Real friends who admired, and praised and joked and laughed with him...something he'd always wanted, but never really had, until now.

And the tears didn't start for Quinn until she'd returned with the Abrams to their hotel room later that night and realized she hadn't called to check on Caroline since their plane landed almost ten hours ago.

After getting ready for the night in the accessible bathroom of his parents attached suite, Artie wheeled out to find Quinn sitting on the side of the double bed she was to share with Abbey, sobbing as she tightly clutched her phone in her hand.

"Quinn?" he called gently. But his soothing voice only seemed to fuel the shutters currently wracking her body.

"I forgot about her Artie," she managed to choke out between sobs.

"What?" he asked, crossing over to her in just three pushes.

"Caroline. I got so wrapped up in everything...I just forgot," she cried, still staring at her phone.

Artie took inhaled deeply and reached out for her hand. "You didn't forget...you were just busy."

"Too busy to check on my own daughter?" she snapped, then immediately began sobbing again. "I'm a terrible mother Artie."

"You are not a terrible mother Quinn," he countered defensively as he maneuvered closer to the bed.

"Yes I am," she sputtered back in defiance. "I'm a terrible mother who abandoned her baby and doesn't deserve to..."

The chuckle that escaped Artie caught Quinn by surprise. "Stop. You're a great mother who is sad because she misses her baby and exhausted because she's been up since four-thirty this morning," he intoned, smiling softly at her questioning gaze as he snapped on his brakes and hauled himself onto the space next to her. "Now call and check on your daughter."

Quinn sighed and let her weary head fall against his shoulder, "It's too late."

Artie in turn, rested his own head on hers and laughed, "Not for your little night owl it isn't."

He could feel Quinn smile against him before she lifted her head to look down at her phone. It took a minute, with her finger hovering over the send button, but finally she pressed down and brought the phone up to her ear. "Hello Mrs. Puckerman?" she greeted tentatively after the line was picked up, "It's Quinn. How is everything?"

There was a nod, then another, and suddenly Quinn's chin started to tremble. Artie knew what was coming next so he shifted his weight to the right in order to maintain his balance while he comforted her. And as soon as his hand made contact with her back, Quinn's face crumpled. She turned to him, sobbing and whispered, "She's crying."

Artie was at a loss. He wanted nothing more than wrap both of his strong arms around Quinn and hold her tight. But considering that would result in him loosing his balance and toppling over like a rag doll, he decided it probably wasn't the best option. Though anything had to be better than watching her cry through the very one-sided conversation she was currently having.

Without another alternative, Artie reluctantly removed his hand from Quinn's back. "Here," he whispered holding his palm out for the phone. Quinn looked at him skeptically, but handed it over anyway.

She was able to compose herself a little while Artie talked with Mrs. Puckerman, and tried to listen to what was being said, but all she could hear was the sound of her daughter crying in the background. Then Artie said something unexpected...

"We usually just sing to her."

He chuckled in response to whatever Mrs. Puckerman said, then glanced over at Quinn expectantly.

"I can't," she balked softly as the tears came back in earnest.

"Of course you can," he countered in a low whisper. Quinn continued to shake her head, so Artie had no other choice. "Mrs. Puckerman, could you hold on for a second?" he asked, then lowered the phone and held it against his chest. "C'mon Quinn she's tried everything else. You know how Caroline gets when she's overstimulated. She needs to hear her Mommy's voice."

Quinn sniffled and wiped the tears from her cheeks. She hated when Artie was right, which was like...always. "It'll be just like back at home," he coaxed playfully.

Her bloodshot eyes scanned the walls of the unfamiliar room, then landed on her empty arms. She flashed him a skeptical look, but he just smiled at her as he laid the phone down on the mattress so he could pull himself backward on the bed. It was obvious Artie was getting tired of holding himself up, but he was so focused on making Quinn feel better that he almost didn't care when she moved to help him arrange his legs on the bed.

Recovering quickly from the slight blush of embarrassment, Artie reached over for the discarded phone. His hand was stopped by Quinn. "What song are we singing?"

His lips spread into a wide grin. "Something very appropriate," was all he said before letting Mrs. Puckerman know, "We're all set."

Quinn accepted the open arm invitation and snuggled up against Artie's side. She watched as he placed the phone between them and began counting out the beats on his fingers...

"Stars shining bright above me..."

Quinn smiled. She loved this song, especially the way Artie sang it.

"Night breezes seem to whisper "I love you"..."

Looking up at him, she was rewarded with a playful nudge to join in. And she did. "Birds singing in the sycamore tree...Dream a little dream of me."

Abbey must have heard them singing because she ran out from the bathroom with her long hair dripping wet. She jumped onto the bed and giggled as she clamored over Artie's legs to rest on the other side of him...this was her favorite part. "Say "Night-ie night" and kiss me. Just hold me tight and tell me you'll miss me..."

Quinn choked up a bit at that part, but after an encouraging squeeze from Artie, she was able to continue. "While I'm alone and blue as can be.  
Dream a little dream of me..."

Artie wasn't even half-way through the second time around...and all three girls were fast asleep.

_**ANx2...Okay, so I couldn't resist throwing that little tribute to the back nine in here...only now it was done in reverse, with Artie comforting Quinn. Kevin totally killed that song with his rendition and it's quickly become my favorite Glee cover to date...so tell me, why is not on any of the soundtracks?**_


	23. Chapter 23

**__****__****__****__****An authors note...You guys are fabulous as always. Thank you so very much for all of the wonderful reviews, and always appreciated favorite/alerts. This has truly been one of the most rewarding experiences of my life...which is why I am so saddened to announce that this will be the last chapter of this story. I put off posting until now because today is the six month anniversary of this story and I thought it would be the proper day to end it...plus it gave me some extra time to work on this chapter. Hope it was worth the wait.**

**_Disclaimer-Glee is the property of FOX, the creators and the writers. _**

**_Lean on Me_**

It was Tuesday, and the Glee clubbers were still over the moon about their second place win at Nationals. Sure, the outcome may have been a little different if Vocal Adrenaline hadn't been disqualified before the competition for deceptive tactics...after it was learned that their director intentionally and continuously had several of her students failed so that they could continue to participate. Turns out, the age requirement caps out at nineteen, and five of the Vocal Adrenaline singers were over twenty.

How they came to claim the honor wasn't really what mattered here. New Directions from McKinley high school in Lima Ohio, would be forever know as the first runner up at the 2010 show choir national championships...that's _second_...in the _nation_.

Quinn was convinced that it was all because Artie sang lead, and held no reservations when expressing that opinion. Ever the humble one, Artie tried to dismiss her insistence and hide his blush of embarrassment every single time she mentioned it. Which was a little too frequently for his liking.

"But we are totally going to win next year," Quinn declared as they entered the house through the garage entrance.

Artie rolled his eyes a little, but could help getting caught up in her excitement over the conversation that she'd started on the ride home from the grocery store. "Oh yeah, and how can you be so sure of that?" he challenged, smiling up at her.

Quinn threw her head over her shoulder just like he knew she would and smirked. "Easy. For one, Mr. Schue wants to keep rehearsals going throughout the summer as often as we can all get together. That alone will make us so much better. And since you won us this years title for us, hands down, you're a shoe-in for male lead next year. With those odds, there is no way we could loose."

Artie sheepishly lowered his head and watched her toe out of her shoes. "Quinn, Mr. Schuester never said anything about making me the lead permanently," he returned, then glanced up pointedly, "I knew that going in, and it's okay," and gave a small, indifferent shrug as he added, "I'm glad I was at least given that chance just once."

A pang of sadness hit Quinn when she realized what Artie meant by that. Most people would have never taken a kid in a wheelchair seriously as a performer. But luckily for them, Mr. Schuester was different. "He'd be stupid for not keeping it that way though," she added with a slightly dismissive tone, hoping to cover up any lingering emotions. "You deserve it way more than anyone else in the club."

Artie knew there was really no point in arguing with her when she was so obviously set in her ways, but even before he could try to form any type of response to that, his mothers voice called out from beyond the kitchen. "Artie...Quinn?"

Quinn threw a pointed smirk over her shoulder at Artie, as she sauntered through the mud room on her way into the kitchen. "Sorry it took so long Alicia. They didn't have the exact one you were looking for, so we had to go two stores. Then I lost track of Artie for a few minutes...finally found him salivating in the middle of the frozen novelty aisle." She let out a small giggle, stopping only to place the plastic bag she was carrying on the center island, and continued on her way. "I took pity on him because, well, tomorrow _is_ his birthday and they _did_ have his favorite flavor and it _was_ on sale...but a part of me still feels guilty for contributing to his obvious addiction to..."

"...ice cream."

Her bright smile shattered once she stepped into the family room. Alicia was already on her feet, poised to intercept her at the entrance, an apologetic expression worrying at her face. "Why are you doing here Mother?" Quinn all but demanded of the woman sitting on the couch, after first exchanging a desperate look with an equally concerned Art and Alicia.

Judy glanced up and forced a grin. "I came to see how you were doing Sweetheart," she replied innocently.

Quinn just stood there and glared. Her first instinct was to whisk Caroline from the elder Fabray's clutches, but something, maybe fear, maybe disbelief, rooted her firmly into place. "Well, you can go now because, _we..._are fine," she spat back, accentuating the pronoun as she shot a pointed glance in the direction of her slumbering baby girl. Judy followed her gaze. Quinn could sense Artie's presence behind her, and that somehow gave her the courage she needed to add, "Why wouldn't we be?"

Judy visibly flinched at the harshness of her daughters words. It took her a moment to dare look up and when she did, she found Quinn exhibiting an kind of self-confidence she didn't know the young lady had. All the Fabray women she'd ever known had been submissive, almost to a fault. Herself and eldest daughter Avery, included.

Not Quinn though.

Judy almost managed a smile at that. "That's wonderful to hear Darling," she finally choked out, after first clearing the lingering emotion from her throat. Mrs. Fabray quickly glanced back down at Caroline, and a small but genuine smile began to surface. "Our last meeting was so brief, I never got a chance to hold her."

"She was born five weeks premature," Quinn explained as she briskly walked over and scooped her daughter into the protective cocoon of her arms,"so she really isn't supposed to be around too many strangers."

It may have bee the truth, but that statement hit like a punch in the stomach. Judy knew she _was_ a stranger to her grandchild, something she had come over to the Abrams to rectify. But it quickly dawned on her that maybe she was, in some ways, now a stranger to Quinn as well.

Ignoring the sting, Judy rose to her feet and sobered enough to ask, "Five weeks is early, is everything...okay?"

Quinn let out a rueful laugh. "You mean, is she defective?" A look of horror crossed Judy's face and Quinn momentarily wondered if maybe she had crossed some kind of line with that comment, but didn't really care either way. "No Mother. Aside from being half Puckerman, she appears to be perfectly normal...not exhibiting any ill effects from her premature birth."

"You must be very relieved then." Mrs. Fabray let out her own small sigh and smiled, all the while, trying to avoid looking in the direction of the young man in the wheelchair, perched near her daughter.

Quinn couldn't help but notice the subtle exchange, and her glare intensified. She pulled Caroline a little closer to her chest while taking the few steps needed to stand next to Artie. So close in fact, her hip was nearly touching his shoulder. "She's my daughter, I will always love her no matter what," Quinn emphasized pointedly.

Judy swallowed hard and gave a solemn nod, her gaze briefly skirting over her daughter before settling on the floor. "Maybe I shouldn't have come," she muttered, stooping down to grab the bag at her feet. Turning to Alicia and Art, Judy held out her hand and thanked them for having her, then reached into her purse to pull out a slip of paper. "Please accept this and my deepest gratitude."

"Thank you Mrs. Fabray, but I cannot accept this." Bewildered, Alicia looked down at the check being offered to her and shook her head. Sure, an extra five thousand dollars in the bank would always be welcome, because even if they weren't in any financial need, they still had three growing children accruing some hefty bills; one in sports, one in the arts, and the third in both, as well as certain aspects of Artie's ongoing care that weren't fully covered by either of their combined health insurances. For some reason, though, this just felt wrong. "I'm sorry...I won't."

"Is that why you came here..." Quinn spat as she snatched the paper from her mothers hand. She glanced down at the large summed check and let out a grunt of disgust, "...to buy them off?"

"Of course not Sweetheart," Judy countered emphatically. "This was just a simple gesture of appreciation...a small compensation for all of the sacrifices they've..."

"God Mother, you are so unbelievable," Quinn scoffed incredulously, even though she'd spent many sleepless nights praying she'd somehow, someday, find a way to repay the Abrams for everything they've done for her and Caroline. Furious, she turned to Artie. "Would you mind?" she implored, motioning to Caroline.

"Not at all," he returned genuinely and promptly held his hands out for the baby.

After completing the exchange, Quinn then walked up to her mother. "You think that you can just come riding up here on your high horse, after everything is all said and done, say a few nice things, then write your guilt away in the form of a check. This isn't like church Mother."

"Quinnie, that's not what I'm trying to do at all," Judy countered defensively, but Quinn was quicker.

"No? You're not trying to make yourself feel better?"

"No Darling." Mrs. Fabray was crying now. "Daddy and I hadn't realized how much we missed you until we saw you the other day. We care about you so much Sweetheart...and we just want you to come back home to us..." she paused to glance over at Caroline, whom Artie was currently guarding with his life, "...the both of you, as soon as possible."

Quinn felt as though she'd been hit with a thousand pound wrecking ball. This couldn't be happening. "No," she gasped, tears streaming from her eyes. She looked pleadingly to the Abrams, and sobbed, "Th-that's a lie. You don't love me, you...I can't go back there...I can't..."

Afraid she might drop, Alicia rushed to Quinn's side and embraced the trembling girl. "It's okay Sweetie...everything is going to be okay," she assured her in a soothing tone, all while sharing an anxious glance with her husband.

Art walked over and wrapped his arms around both women. "Don't worry Quinn," he started, giving her shoulders a squeeze before placing a comforting kiss to the top of her head, "we will never make you do anything you don't want to do." His gaze fixing on the elder Fabray, Art then announced, "I think you should be going now."

...

Despite the intense drama from the night before, and the fact that it fell on a Wednesday this year, Quinn was determined not to let anything ruin Artie's birthday.

She had casually mentioned her desire to "have a little something for Artie with our friends from Glee" to Alicia a few Wednesdays back while the two of them were preparing dinner together...only to have the woman to break down right in front of her and go on about how wonderful that would be since he hadn't had a 'kids' party since his eighth birthday. When Quinn asked why, an emotional Alicia proceeded to tell her how Artie announced, just a few weeks before his ninth birthday, that it would probably be hard for her to host a party after just having a baby. And even after insisting otherwise, stating that it really wouldn't be any trouble since they were "still going to have a family party", she was yet again met with a determined resistance. Chalking it up to her caring, compassionate boy being concerned for her, she reluctantly agreed. But as the years went by the excuses continued, each one lamer than the next...until at twelve Artie declared he was "officially too old for that kind of stuff". Only Alicia knew it was really because he felt no one would have come anyway.

So, after drying her own tears, Quinn set out to make that entire week special, starting with Wednesday...though what she had in mind probably wouldn't even touch what his parents had planned for him later that evening.

"Ah Quinn," Artie called out to the obviously distracted blond.

"What?" she gasped as she snapped out of her reverie and slowed her car to a stop.

"You almost passed the house up," he returned with a small chuckle.

"Oh yeah, sorry..." Stuttering in apology and threw her thumb over her shoulder, "the van was...," then cut herself off as she got out to retrieve Artie's chair from her trunk.

Artie twisted his head around to look in the direction she had motioned. "Cool, it's back."

"No pool today?," Alicia asked anxiously as she met them at the base of the driveway.

"Nah. Mark said he'd take it easy on me today because it's my birthday," he quipped playfully, grinning up at her before pivoting around her to head up the drive.

The way Quinn and his mother rushed up to walk beside him was curious, but no more of a surprise than having Abbey suddenly pop her head out of the vans passenger side window as he passed. "Hi!"

"Hi?" Artie returned, starring suspiciously at his beaming sister.

"Done with physio already?," his dad asked, grinning as he came around from the drivers side of the vehicle.

"Yeah," Artie intoned warily as he explained, "I didn't have enough energy to swim after my session...the sugar buzz I had only lasted about halfway through." He glanced over at Quinn, who gave him an 'I told you so' look. Just because she'd baked two dozen cupcakes last night, didn't mean he had to eat two of them at lunch and another before glee rehearsal. "And now I'm starving."

"I didn't have a chance to start dinner yet," Alicia claimed, and it would have sounded almost apologetic if it weren't for the smirk playing at her lips.

"Why don't we go out then?" Art suggested next.

"But Andy has practice 'til seven," Artie reminded them as he gave an indifferent shrug. "We can always celebrate this weekend. I'm fine just order a pizza or something."

"So? We can go without him," Abbey said insistently as she crawled out from the window and into her fathers arms.

"Abbigayle, be nice," Alicia whispered warningly, even it was common knowledge that Andy would never willingly miss a baseball practice for anything...least of all, his big brothers birthday. "But she does have a point..." she turned to her eldest and smiled, "_today_ is your birthday and if it's pizza you want, then it's pizza you shall have."

"And I'm sure Andy wouldn't mind us going, as long as we bring something back for him," Quinn interjected, desperately trying to hold her excitement at bay for a little while longer. This was just working out too perfectly.

"Sounds like a plan." Art made the satisfied declaration, then turned to his wife. "I don't feel much like driving...how about you Alicia."

"Not really," she replied nonchalantly. "Quinn?"

"No thanks."

Abbey giggled as she snatched the keys from her fathers hand and shimmied down to the ground. "I think Artie should drive."

Artie regarded the sweet little girl standing in front of him, dangling a set of keys in his face and smiled as he politely refreshed her memory, "But I can't drive Abbey."

"Sure you can, you got your license two weeks ago," she countered pointedly.

Artie's smiled reflexively widened even though something in his chest clenched tightly. "I know Abbs, but none of the cars we have are equipped with..." He trailed off once everybody broke out into simultaneous grins. Wrinkling his forehead in confusion, he then glanced up questioningly at his parents.

"Where do you think the vans been for the past five days, Ace?" Art asked teasingly.

"Getting new brakes," Artie answered incredulously. They said they were taking it to Mr. Hummel to get...wait a minute...

Artie locked eyes with his mother, who could only manage a watery smile and a small nod. This was all the confirmation he needed to know exactly what type of brakes they were referring to, and his jaw fell open in disbelief. "Mom?"

"Happy Birthday Sweetie," she choked out before her emotions got the best of her. Artie couldn't believe it, this was so much more than he could have ever asked for. Sure they had bounced around the idea of him eventually getting a vehicle after he'd got his license, but this...this was...

"Sorry it's about a year over due," Alicia managed to whisper a few seconds later. Artie had no idea he was squeezing his mother that tight until her words came out like a strangled gasp. He backed away slightly and glanced up at her with the most graciously sincere expression.

"No Mom, it's..." Artie trailed off, unable to continue. He held her gaze a few seconds longer, until his vision became obscured, and he was forced to shove his fingers under his glasses to wipe at the moisture pooling in his eyes. It didn't take long for him to forget his excitement and become extremely self-conscious over the fact that Quinn was there to witness this very open display of emotion. However, all that was thrown out the window when he hesitantly glanced up to see the genuine look of happiness she had for him on her own tear-streaked face.

"Art, show him," Alicia insisted, relishing in the way her sons face lit up as he watched the van door open and lower the ramp to reveal the newly installed, top-of-the-line hand controls.

"Okay so, Burt Hummel has this mechanic friend who's kind of an expert when it comes to adaptive driving," Mr. Abrams started out explaining as he lead Artie into the van, "The best in the state I think..."

As father and son left to bond over 'car stuff', Quinn reflexively glanced over at Alicia. To say this must be a bittersweet moment for her was an understatement, and the torn expression she was wearing, only confirmed that.

Quinn stepped over and placed a comforting arm around Alicia's shoulders. "Looks like we pulled it off," she whispered triumphantly as she gave a small squeeze. It was nice to finally be the one to do the comforting.

Alicia nodded silently and swallowed hard, but returned Quinn's smile with one of her own. "I don't know if I've even seen him so happy," she sniffled in return. On second thought, maybe she had...that first time he held his baby sister, then again as Caroline was being born...though Alicia thought it best to keep that to herself.

Quinn had just turned to pull Alicia into a warm hug, when the tender gesture was prematurely spoiled by the ringing of the house heard over the baby monitor still clipped to Alicia's front pocket. So they shared a chuckle instead.

"I'll get it," Abbey eagerly offered, and ran inside to see who was calling.

Artie had just transferred to the drivers seat, and was checking over the swivel mechanism, when a flushed looking Abbey came jogging out of the house with the phone in her hand. "Mommy, it's coach Ian."

She handed it to Alicia who proceed to nod, cringe worriedly and say, "Okay, sure. We'll meet you there."

Mr. Abrams, who was very familiar with that tone, immediately stuck his head out of the opened side door of the van. "What is it Leesha?"

"Andy," she replied shakily, as she handed the reciever over to Quinn. "He took a line drive to the face. They're taking him to the emergency room. They think his nose might be broken."

"Here," Artie offered upon hearing the news, and seeing the concerned looks on his parents faces. He moved to transfer back to his chair. "We'll go with you."

"No, you guys stay here," Art countered, stopping Artie before he'd completed the maneuver. "You shouldn't have to spend your birthday in the emergency room."

Alicia couldn't agree more. They'd already had to do that once, on Artie's eleventh birthday, only that time he was the patient. "And you know how much Abbey hates hospitals." He gave an indecisive shrug, still torn between going with his parents or staying home with the girls. Yes, it was his birthday, and no, he didn't want to spend it in the emergency room...but Andy was still his brother, and as awful as he could be sometimes, Artie really did love him. "Please," Alicia added, her voice taking on a slightly panicky tone at having to wait for a definitive answer.

"Okay," Artie finally relented. He'd seen far too much of anxious, worried Mom to know it was better not to argue with her when she was like that.

"Thank you," she whispered, climbing into the van to give him a hug. "I'm so sorry about dinner Sweetie."

"It's okay Mom," he consoled dismissively. And it was. "Just...," Artie started once they began to break apart. He caught her gaze and flashed her an encouraging smile, "...don't worry, he'll be fine."

A little more at ease, Alicia exited the van and scooped Abbey up into her arms before turning to give Quinn a hug goodbye.

"This enough for something to eat?" Art asked, handing Artie two twenty dollar bills.

"Sure," he grinned, not at all surprised by the generous gesture. "I have some of my own too."

Art nodded and wordlessly pulled another bill out of his pocket. He tossed it into Artie's lap, then leaned in to give his son a quick squeeze. "You guys have a good night", he advised, glancing back over his shoulder, on his way to his car. "We'll keep you in touch."

"Thanks Dad," Artie called out, even though he suspected his father was probably out of ear shot.

Quinn waved the Abrams off, then turned back to Artie and sighed. "I guess we'd better get inside and order that pizza," she suggested, almost apologetically.

Considering his options, Artie glanced over to where his chair was sitting, to the steering wheel, then down at the sixty dollars still sitting in his lap and grinned wickedly. "Are you kidding me?" he countered, blue eyes dancing brightly as he turned the drivers seat forward and shoved the key into the ignition. "We are so going out."

...

It didn't take much arm twisting from either girl to convince Artie that they should probably go for actual food, before treating themselves to dessert.

It really didn't matter where they went first...as long as he got to drive.

"I have to go to the bathroom," Abbey whispered across the table to her brother.

"So go," he replied even softer, a ghost of a blush coloring his cheeks.

"But Mom usually goes with me," she announced sheepishly, causing Artie's eyes to widen in alarm.

Smiling at his reaction, Quinn quickly offered. "I'll go with you Abbey. I have to wash my hands anyway."

With the girls gone, Artie figured it was safe to sneak another piece of pizza. He had just gotten the corner into his mouth when a matronly voice called out.

"How old?"

Artie quickly glanced over at the friendly stranger smiling at him. Taken by surprise, he was reflexively about to brag that he turned seventeen today, when he remembered that he wasn't completely alone at the table. He swallowed the last of his bite and wiped his mouth with a napkin. "Oh um four weeks," Artie replied, smiling as he looked down at Caroline, comfortably lounging in her car seat on the chair next to him.

The older woman, about the age of his grandmother, smiled as she stared at the baby. "Such a mild mannered disposition...and so content. I haven't heard a peep out of her the entire time," she commented, motioning three tables over to where a younger woman was still trying to calm her very unhappy infant.

"Well, you wouldn't be saying that if you heard her about an hour ago," he quipped playfully, then nodded in the direction of the crying, "she sounded a lot like that."

The lady let out a small laugh and shrugged. "Well either way, you have a very beautiful daughter."

"Oh no...um, she's not...

"Thank you," Quinn cut in before Artie could finish stammering, and smiled politely at the woman as she walked away.

"You could have just said thank you, you know." Her casualness caused him to look up in surprise. "I find it's simpler that trying to explain the situation," she added, pausing a moment to smile at the blush that was quickly spreading across Artie's cheeks. Quinn gave a small shrug, "At least she was nice and didn't condemn you for being a teen-aged parent."

"Well I'm not a teen-aged parent," Artie countered, his tone heavy, and slightly disappointed sounding. "And I can't take credit for something that's not mine." He glanced back at Caroline and smiled, "especially not something that's as beautiful as her."

Quinn's chest clenched and the table fell into an uncomfortable silence after that...but only for a few short minutes.

"Do you have any quarters?" Abbey asked hopefully.

"For what Squirt?" Artie queried, playing dumb.

The little girl broke out into a huge grin and giggled at her brother. "The arcade games, Silly."

Artie exaggeratedly rolled his eyes as he reached around and stuck his hand into the side pocket of his backpack, thankful he remembered to grab the stash of coins his parents keep in the drivers side cup holder before exiting the van.

Abbey looked expectantly over at Quinn, but she could only contribute her measly three to Artie's twenty or so.

"Have fun...,"Artie called after her, "...and stay where I can see you."

Quinn had to smile. Artie was so unbelievably amazing with kids. At first she'd thought it was just because he had grown up with a baby sister who was nine years younger. But the way he was with Caroline...

"Is it wrong to wish she wasn't Puck's?"

The words came out faster than Quinn had anticipated. And it wasn't even the question she'd intended on asking him.

"I don't think so," Artie rationalized, smiling down at the baby beside him. "I mean you and Finn were a couple for what...almost two years? It's only logical that you would want him to the father of your child."

"Finn? Oh God no, he's a complete idiot," she gasped incredulously, capping it off with a tiny giggle. "I mean he's a great guy and everything. It's just...he'd probably need an instruction manual to change a diaper. And did you forget his choice in baby names?"

Artie let out a soft chuckle, followed by a noncommittal shrug as he continued to gently run his finger over Caroline's pudgy knee. "Can you hand me her blanket?" he asked abruptly, a second later, "She feels a little cold."

Quinn nodded and passed the soft covering over the table, her smile widening the entire time. "I was thinking more along the lines of a father-figure like Mr. Schue," she revealed, timidly returning to the previous subject. Artie finished tucking the blanket around Caroline and glanced up curiously. He was well aware of the plot Mrs. Schuester and her sister came up with to pass the baby off as Mr. Schue's, though he never held any of that against Quinn. "Or your dad," she beamed a beat later, then leaned forward on the table and added in all honesty, "or even you..."

Artie's reaction to her compliment didn't have the effect Quinn thought it would. Instead of that coy blush followed by a satisfied smirk she was expecting, he lowered his head self-consciously and sighed, "You mean me without the chair."

"What?" Quinn gasped, caught off guard. That wasn't what she meant at all. "No Artie. You...just the way you are," she clarified, but he still didn't look convinced. "Look...," she back-peddled nervously, "...there's something I've been meaning to ask you for a while, and I've been putting it off because I really wasn't sure I was going to go through with it. But now I'm am and I'd...", Quinn paused to make sure she had his attention, then smiled hopefully at him, "...I'd really like you to be Caroline's godfather."

Again, his response wasn't at all what she'd expected and her smile faltered. "I'm honored Quinn, really...I'm just not sure I'm the right candidate for that position."

"Geeze Artie, it's not like I'm nominating you for president," she returned, pointedly following his gaze to were it was resting on his lap, "though I feel the need to remind you that one of our greatest presidents to date, was himself, in a wheelchair." Artie cracked a smile but didn't look up. "And I'm sure your relationship with Caroline won't be all that different from the one you have with Abbey."

At the mention of her name, Artie glanced over to where his little sister was intently studying the contents of the crane game.

"It makes no difference to her that you can't run around and kick a ball, because you still managed to teach her how to play soccer. And she doesn't care that you can't bike ride together, because you guys can still have races. You're there for her whenever, wherever...and that's what I want for Caroline."

Artie switched his focus back to the almost dozing baby next to him, so Quinn took the opportunity to do the same.

"I see how you are with her Artie. Just be the way she looks at you, I know she recognizes who you are. I love how she tries to smile at you when you're talking or singing to her. And how she clings your shirt when you're holding her. You make her feel safe and cared about...just like you make me feel."

Artie's eyes snapped up to meet Quinn's and his throat suddenly went dry. Damn salty pizza. "God Quinn, you are so beautiful," he blurted out unexpectedly.

"Artie, don't. I've had a really difficult time trying to not kiss you today...and right now, you're making it almost impossible." Realizing she had just said that out loud, Quinn sprang from her seat and abruptly left the table. She only got halfway to the door when she remembered she'd left her purse...and her baby.

Returning with a blush redder than an over ripe tomato, Quinn avoided looking at Artie as she began to collect her things. She had just closed her hand around the handle of Caroline's car seat, when Artie covered it with his. "Did you forget that I'm the one who drove here?" he asked staring up at her. Quinn nodded, so he implored, "Sit, please."

At Quinn's hesitated, Artie moved Caroline off of the chair next to him, to the freshly cleared table. "Artie, I...," she started, even before she was fully seated.

"It's okay Quinn, I understand," he cut in before she could continue. "I'm just...I'm flattered." Artie was able to cover up his slight stammer with a shrug, "I've only ever had one other person want to actually kiss me...and well, you know how that turned out." His own blush intensified and he lowered his head sheepishly. "If it makes you feel any better, I've wanted to kiss you since the second grade."

Quinn let out a soft giggle. It did make her feel better...but only a little. "I'm not sure you do understand Artie," she returned honestly. "I care about you, a lot...and your family." The hitch in her voice did nothing to help her sincerity, neither did the pause that followed. "I wouldn't have even considered you and Mom for Caroline's godparents if I didn't."

"I know," Artie returned, unable to hide the slight disappointment in his voice, at what was starting to sound suspiciously like rejection. Not that he had expected anything else.

Sensing that same reason behind his response, Quinn reached out for Artie's hands. "You know this has nothing to do with Puck, or Finn...," she glanced down pointedly, "...or even your chair. This has to do with me and my incredibly mix up, screwed up life." Quinn gave his hands a quick squeeze and smiled. "I never want to do anything to hurt you Artie. I just need to take things slow right now, and figure out what's best for the both of us," she glanced over at Caroline, then back at him, "...for all of us." He nodded again, and so did she.

"Promise this won't change anything between us?"

"I Promise," Artie agreed...only he knew this would change everything.

_**Two weeks later...**_

It was the second official day of summer vacation. Artie and Quinn sat on the couch in the family room, while some obscure reality show played on the tv.

"What are we doing here Artie?"

He let out a small chuckle. "I've been asking myself that for the past forty-seven minutes."

Quinn gave his chest a light swat. "I mean us...," She glanced up to see him wrinkle his forehead in confusion and let out a frustrated sigh. "Take Wednesday after school got out, we went to the mall together."

"Yeah? Ad met up with Kurt, Tina, Mike and Mercedes."

"Then yesterday...we went to the movies," she returned pointedly.

"It was a matinee...and we took Abbey," he countered playfully.

"So what about tonight?"

Artie broke out into a wide grin. Tonight was definitely special. The two of them alone, out for Chinese.

"I'm no expert, but that kinda felt like a date."

"So much for taking it slow," he mumbled teasingly. Another swat, harder this time and Artie winced. "Did you think it was a date?"

Quinn bit her lower lip and shrugged. "Did you?" Artie gave the same shrug in reply. "Well then, maybe we should keep trying...you know, so we can figure it out exactly."

Artie pulled Quinn closer to him and placed a soft kiss to the top of her head. "Sounds like a great idea to me."

And the best part? They'd have the next three months to do just that.

_**ANx2...I really do feel bad that I ended up skipping over the second day of Nationals, the announcement of the winners, and the awards ceremony. I was finding all of that very difficult to write, probably because I already wrote that in the Regionals chapter. So I left it out and decided to go with the Quinn/Artie fluff instead...after the angst, of course.**_

**__****ANx3...It looks as though the fates have spoken on this one, the poll results were 73% in favor of Quinn and Artie possibly ending up together. In light of this, I'd like to ask your opinion on whether or not I should continue with this storyline in the future, since I already have an Abrams family based fic lined up for this fall, and would like something else to work on in the meantime. **


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